by Linda Seed
Nix was mesmerized, and a blood engorgement problem was causing him to shift a little in his seat. It was just like Mrs. Lombardi had said. Sensual. The perfect food for love.
His mouth was dry and his mind was blank, and when she recovered enough to tell him the food was delicious, he couldn’t respond at first.
“Nix? Are you okay?” She looked at him with her fork in her hand, her eyebrows raised.
He cleared his throat. “Uh … fine. Yes. I’m fine.”
He’d suspected it at Mojo’s, and now he knew it for sure: watching Joy eat was, in itself, a satisfying sexual experience.
He was nothing if not ambitious, though. He was certain he could improve on it, if given a chance.
He was hoping he’d get the chance sooner rather than later.
When dinner was over, they carried their plates back into the house and put them in the sink. Joy made moves to start cleaning up, but Nix stopped her.
“I’ll do that later. You’re my guest. You don’t have to clean up.”
Instead, she poured herself another glass of wine, refilled Nix’s glass, and sat on the sofa in the living room, patting the seat beside her in invitation.
“So, that’s one item ticked off your list,” he said.
“Yes. And it was so much fun! I can’t wait to hit some more things on the checklist.”
“Speaking of which.” He put his knee up on the sofa so he could face her more fully. “I saw another one we could maybe take care of now, if you want.”
“Which is?”
Joy was fully prepared for this to be a come-on, an invitation into his bedroom that would change the whole dynamic of the date. But what he suggested was different than what she’d thought.
“You wrote that you’ve never kissed a guy without worrying about whether it was going to turn into sex,” he said.
She blinked a few times. “Yeah. I did write that.”
“So, let’s cross that one off. If you want to.”
She stared at him, then her lips curved into a slow smile. “I’m not sure that’s possible.”
“What? The kissing?”
“No. The part where I’m not worried about whether it will lead to sex.”
“Oh, well, that’s not an issue.”
“It’s not?”
“Nope.” He held his hand over his heart. “I, Phoenix Landry, give you my solemn vow that I will not make any moves on you tonight beyond kissing, no matter what, even if you beg me. No touching below the neck.”
“But above the neck is okay?” Joy asked.
“Well, I was hoping to run my hands through your hair. It’s really nice hair.”
She giggled. “Even if I beg you,” she repeated.
“Right. Even if you get on your knees and …” He seemed to rethink where he was going with that. “Even if you say please.”
God, he was adorable. And it really would be nice to kiss him without worries, without expectations, without anything but the pleasure of kissing for its own sake.
“All right,” she said.
“All right?”
“Let’s do it.” Now she was the one rethinking her language. “The kissing, I mean.”
Nix wondered if his proposal had sounded to Joy like a gimmick or an angle. It wasn’t. Yes, he wanted to get her into bed. Eventually. But right now, he really did want her to be able to fulfill her list item. He really did want her to be able to enjoy a kiss for kissing’s sake, without expectation and without anxiety.
It was a thing men didn’t have to deal with—the constant weighing of risk vs. reward that came with a kiss. For him, a kiss was always just a kiss when he wanted it to be. But he could see that for Joy, and probably for all women, it was likely fraught not only with expectation but also with potential danger.
He had an opportunity to give her what she wanted in exactly the way she wanted it, and he wasn’t about to squander it.
He leaned forward, looked to her in case she’d changed her mind, and, when she gave him a slight, barely perceptible nod, he gently touched his lips to hers.
They’d kissed before, but this was different. This was the fulfillment of a specific thing she’d wanted but had never had. He deepened the kiss, leaning in and slightly parting his lips.
Joy tasted lightly of pinot noir, and she smelled like shampoo and some faint floral perfume. He tilted his head and gently touched his tongue to hers.
If he’d thought the moan was erotic when it was inspired by ice cream or pasta, it was so much more so when elicited by his own touch. It was a subtle sound—a kind of hum from deep in her throat—and it made him feel a rush of desire so strong he nearly swooned—if men could be said to swoon.
He remembered his promise to her—no sex, even if she begged him—and also remembered what he’d said about his hands and her hair.
That, at least, he could do.
He brought his hands up to her face, pressed them to her cheeks, then ran them into her hair, feeling its silky thickness through his fingers.
Usually at this point he’d be pondering how he could transition this whole thing into the bedroom. But not this time. This time, he was fully present in the moment, the way he’d always urged Joy to be.
He had to admit, there was something to be said for this kissing-only concept.
A few moments into the kiss—after Nix slid his hands into her hair and after she let out that explicitly sexual sound of bliss—Joy started rethinking the limits they’d set on this particular activity.
“Um … I …” She was having a hard time gathering her thoughts because he was running his lips along her jawline. Her head was thrown back, her eyes closed as she felt the sensation of his kisses like a current of electricity through her body.
“Mmm?” He murmured his encouragement without removing his mouth from her skin.
“I think … maybe it wouldn’t be so bad if we … you know. Moved things …” She gasped. “Below the neck.”
“Nope.” He continued what he was doing.
Had he really said no? She wondered if she’d heard him wrong from within her fog of pleasure.
“Really? Because—”
“I made a promise.” He moved his mouth back to hers and devoured her, caressing her with his tongue and drawing her lower lip in between his teeth for a gentle nip.
“Yes, but …” She lost the thread of the conversation again, then forced herself back on track. “If I say … that you don’t really have to … you know … keep it …”
“A promise is a promise.”
His lips and his tongue and his hands in her hair were everything—the whole world.
“Oh.” The word sounded breathy and sad.
Nix had faced challenges in his life. Getting through AP Calculus in high school, for one. And then there was the time he’d taken a law office job he wasn’t qualified for.
But none of the previous challenges he’d faced and then either met or failed to meet had been quite like this one.
A beautiful, warm woman was inviting herself into his bed, and he had to say no.
God knew he didn’t want to, but he’d made a promise, and this was a test. If he failed to keep this promise, he might not get a chance to show her he could keep the next one. Worse than that, if he didn’t do what he’d said he would, she wouldn’t get to tick the box next to the kissing item on her list. And that meant she would never be able to simply enjoy being with a man without all of the baggage that came with it.
He’d set out to give her that, and he wasn’t going to turn back now.
Nix was keeping his nothing-below-the-neck promise. But Joy wasn’t sticking to the limits they’d set.
She laid her palms against his chest, then began running them downward. But before she could get very far, he caught her hands in his and stopped her.
“Nope,” he said again. He brought her hands to his mouth and kissed them, then let go and sat back with a satisfied smile on his face.
“Really?” she
said.
“Really.”
Joy wasn’t sure whether to feel rejected or pleased.
“How did you enjoy it?” he asked. “A kiss without the possibility of sex?”
She was silent for a moment, still coming back into herself after what felt like an out-of-body experience.
“It was lovely.” She could feel herself smiling like a lovesick fool.
“Good. I’m glad.”
“I … uh … I guess I’d better go,” she said. “Before we …”
“Yeah. Probably best.”
“I had a great time, Nix. Thank you.” She pressed a kiss to his lips that was much more chaste than the last one.
“I did, too. I’d walk you to the door, but I have a situation.” He glanced down toward his lap.
“Oh.” She giggled a little, then gathered up her purse and her jacket and headed for the door, giving him a little three-fingered wave as she went.
Nix was enchanted by Joy’s giggle. He’d heard it a couple of times tonight, and it delighted him. When he’d met her, he wouldn’t have thought her capable of such a simple, innocent expression of pleasure.
He wanted to make her do it again and again. And if she happened to be naked when it happened, well, so much the better.
He got up with some discomfort and went to take care of his situation.
Chapter 20
Joy’s original intention had been to delay having sex with Nix in order to protect her heart. Who’d have thought that simply kissing him would put her heart in more danger than if she’d just gone all the way?
The kiss had been amazing. Miraculous. The fact that they’d agreed it wouldn’t lead to anything else had allowed her to be fully present for it, enjoying it for its own sake instead of seeing it as a bridge to something else.
Okay, yes, she’d tried to take it further, and Nix had surely wanted that, too. But he’d kept his promise to her.
Even though he’d had to deny himself something he wanted, he’d kept his promise.
How many men in her life had ever done that?
She thought about that the morning after the date as she took a run up Santa Rosa Creek Road. The weather was mild, and she enjoyed the feeling of the cool ocean air on her skin, her muscles warm and loose, the trees above her offering a canopy of shade.
Usually, on the morning after she’d eaten something calorie-laden like the pasta, she’d be running to atone for her indulgence. But today, she reminded herself to run just for the sake of it. Just for the pure thrill of enjoying her own vibrant strength.
She ran up the road for two and a half miles according to her pedometer, then turned around for a total of five. When she got back to the tiny house, a sheen of sweat on her skin, she looked at the outdoor tub with her hands on her hips, considering.
When she’d first seen the thing, she’d thought there was no way she would ever take a bath outdoors—it had seemed so … rural. But now the sight of the tub situated just off the porch was more enticing than she’d have expected.
Why not?
No one ever came out here except Nix, and he only showed up in the afternoons, usually, to tend his garden. The odds of him visiting at exactly the wrong time were slim.
She’d decided to enjoy whatever the tiny house experience had to offer, and this was one of those things. Bathing in the shade of a sycamore tree with the breeze murmuring through the leaves and the birds singing their unknowable songs?
Again, why not?
She went to the tub, plugged the drain, and started the tap. When the tub was full, the water just the right temperature, she went into the house, got a towel, and brought it outside.
Joy hesitated, then stripped off her running clothes and stepped into the tub. She let out a sigh of contentment as she lowered herself into the hot water.
Nix could admit, if pressed, that he’d manufactured a reason to go to the tiny house. He didn’t need to weed his planting beds—he’d done it just the day before—but if he went out there and did it again, he might get to see Joy, which seemed to him like a very good thing.
The day was so nice that he decided to park his car just inside the gate to the property and walk the rest of the way.
He wasn’t trying to be especially quiet, but he wasn’t making noise, either; just the crunch of his shoes on the dirt road.
She didn’t hear him, probably because she was wearing earbuds, listening to something—music? A podcast?—as she soaked in the tub he’d installed.
Her head was back against the edge of the tub, her eyes closed, her face smooth and relaxed.
Her shoulders, bare and pale and perfect, peeked out above the rim of the tub.
He froze, not knowing what to do.
If she saw him, she’d be self-conscious and it would ruin what was obviously a good time. If she didn’t see him, well, that was kind of creepy. He didn’t want to be that guy who stood there watching a naked woman without her knowledge.
So, two choices: call out to her so she’d know he was there, or turn around and go home.
God, she was beautiful. Not just physically, either—he found unbearable beauty in the way she was unfolding, opening herself to new experiences and new pleasures. He felt privileged to be a part of it.
Still, he couldn’t stand here and watch her without her knowing. He turned and started back toward his car.
He’d barely gotten three steps away before he heard her squealing, the bath water splashing.
“Oh my God. Nix! How long have you been there?!”
He winced and turned around slowly to find her still in the tub, but sitting upright now and clutching a towel to her body.
“Sorry. Sorry.” He held his hands up in helpless surrender and closed his eyes. “I wasn’t watching you. I promise. I was only there for a second.”
“Well, what were you doing if you weren’t watching me?”
The sight of her had made his excuse for being here fly right out of his head, and he scrambled to get it back. “I … uh … I came out here to do some gardening, that’s all. Then I saw you, and I didn’t want to interrupt … you seemed like you were having a really nice time … so I was just going to leave. But then you saw me, and … and here we are.”
It was a fairly thorough summary, given how flustered he was.
“Oh, God. I knew this whole outdoor bathtub thing was a mistake,” she said.
“No! No, it isn’t. I’ll just go so you can continue”—he made a vague gesture with his hands—“doing what you were doing. Just pretend I was never here.”
“You don’t have to do that. You came all the way out here. Ugh. Just … turn around while I get out.”
The thought of her getting out of the tub on his account, before she was ready, disturbing her peaceful reverie, filled him with regret. But he turned his back to her as she instructed.
He heard the splashing as she got out of the water.
“Okay, I’m just going to go inside now. Don’t turn around until you hear the door close.”
“Got it.”
He heard her steps on the porch, then the opening of the door. Then, with not a small amount of sorrow, he heard the door close.
He sighed, turned back around, and headed toward the garden.
Joy had a couple of choices: she could believe that Nix had been standing there spying on her, or she could believe he’d innocently stumbled onto her lying in the bathtub and had been leaving to preserve her privacy when she’d seen him.
She chose to believe the latter—that he’d been a victim of circumstance. After all, what would she have done in the same situation? If she’d seen Nix naked in the tub, lying with his face to the sun, his eyes closed …
Oh, God. That wasn’t useful. That kind of thinking was going to get her into trouble.
She dried off, dressed, and wondered what to do next. Should she go out to the garden and talk to him? What if he’d come wanting to be alone with his plants?
Don’t be stupid, she told herse
lf. The plants are an excuse. He came here to see me.
That thought made a little trill of excitement bubble up in her chest. That was the truth, wasn’t it? He came here for her, and the gardening was a convenient ruse.
She blow-dried her hair, put on just a hint of makeup, and gave herself a pep talk before going out there to see him.
It’s just friendly. It’s just a friendly visit. And there’s not going to be any kissing today. Even though he just saw me naked.
Nix was out at his garden, looking for nonexistent weeds, when Joy came walking up the path to meet him.
“Hey.” He gave her a weak wave. “I’m sorry about earlier. I really didn’t mean—”
“Right. I know.” She dismissed his apology with a wave of her arm. “I get it.”
“Okay.” He nodded, his hands stuffed into the pockets of his jeans. He raked a hand through his hair—it was loose today—and grinned sheepishly. “I do kind of have a confession, though.”
“You do?”
“Yeah. I didn’t really have to weed the garden.” He indicated the weedless expanse of his planting beds. “I just wanted to see you. Though, I didn’t expect to see quite so much of you.”
She laughed and blushed, and the sight of it warmed him and made him feel happy and full.
“I … ah … noticed you’ve got some stuff sprouting,” he said. “I didn’t know you planted anything.”
Joy’s eyes widened, and she went to the raised bed Nix had designated as hers. She peered down at the tiny green shoots stretching up from the soil and squealed in delight.
“Oh my God! Yes! I planted some carrots and cucumbers, but I didn’t think it would work! Look at them!” She jumped up and down a few times in excitement, clapping her hands like a child at Christmas.
If he hadn’t already fallen in love with her, that would have been the moment. Seeing her bubble over with excitement over her sprouting seeds would have sent him over the edge into a zone of no return. He’d already been more than halfway there, anyway.