"I have an idea," I said. "I know a nice little restaurant not too far from here. If you'll allow me, I'd like to call and order some dinner for us. Will you let me do that for you?"
There was a mixed look on her face. I saw the fleeting glance of gratitude that meant she wouldn't have to cook, or maybe she was planning on eating something simple like scrambled eggs and didn't have anything to offer me. On the other hand, she wanted to tell me no, to tell me to go away and leave her in her predicament. She didn't understand me. She might never understand me, but that didn't mean I would stop trying. "What do you say?"
She nodded, and I didn't give her enough time to change her mind. I pulled out my phone and ordered us two steak dinners with all the trimmings. We settled back on the sofa and she flipped on the television using the remote. She settled on a show from National Geographic, something that was neutral and interesting. She kept the sound low and I was grateful for that. I had the idea she wanted to talk it out.
There came a knock at the door and she went to answer it. It was the restaurant. Evidently, someone had let the man in downstairs. The waiter brought in several boxes and looked to Gwen for some indication where he was to lay out the dinner. I saw a fleeting glance of alarm in her eyes and she motioned to the coffee table. There was no dining room. He nodded as if it was the most natural thing in the world and cleared away the remote and the short pile of magazines that lay there. With a sweep of his hand, he snapped a white linen tablecloth over the coffee table, tucking it inward so that it looked almost as if it were made for it. He looked at Gwen again and she realized he wanted plates. She pulled two unmatched plates from the cupboard and handed them to him, following those with flatware and paper towels to use as napkins. The waiter set out the various boxes, filling our plates and I had to give him credit: for what he had to work with, he made it look five-star. I tipped him well and he nodded and left quietly. There was a bottle of wine and I lightened the mood by grabbing our empty teacups from the side table where the waiter had set them. I poured some wine and each of the cups and handed one to her. She smiled and gave me a half nod. I knew she understood.
I was famished, so it was very little effort for me to begin eating. She began picking, but soon her nervousness must have dwindled because she picked up her steak knife and began cutting hearty chunks of the meat.
"Bitsy would absolutely kill me if she knew I was having steak," she said with a guilty tone.
"Then, next time I come I will make sure that Bitsy's home and include her. Who knows? Maybe we’ll invite Buddy along."
"Have you forgiven Bitsy for her involvement in that elevator fiasco?" she asked me.
I waved my hand from side to side. "All forgotten," I murmured and sipped the wine. I could feel it coursing through my veins, calming me down. As self-assured as I was, the close call of losing her permanently had me shaking to my knees.
We ate in silence for a while, enjoying the delicious food. The television show fascinated us as we watched a lioness prowling. The announcer was commenting that it was the male’s job to hunt but, in this case, the lioness was left alone with the cubs. "This reminds me of my boss, Metallica," she said conversationally. "She came to the US as a child. Her father worked for the United Nations and eventually, she ended up here in Chicago. She's one tough lady, smart and savvy. I'm learning a lot from her."
"Do you really enjoy your job?"
"I'm lucky to have it," she nodded. "I could be working in fast food."
I nodded in agreement and picked up my teacup of wine. I held it out toward her. "To us," I toasted. She hesitated only a moment but lifted her cup to tap against mine and we both sipped the sweet liquid, thereby sealing our intentions.
"You know, you've never answered me." She put the comment out there and I knew she wanted an answer.
"About?"
"What is it you want from me? Now you know my truth. I'm an unmarried mother with a child and I must work and live in this tiny little apartment with a girlfriend to get by. I'm not in your group, Colt. I don't move in your circles, and quite frankly, I'm not sure I want to."
"Somewhere along the line, you've got a really bad opinion of people with money. How do you see the world so black-and-white?"
She shrugged. "I didn't use to," she said softly. "Things happen that teach you lessons along the way. I learned one of those lessons."
I let it go. She deserved to have some secrets, but maybe someday she would open enough to share them with me.
Chapter 12
Gwen
I had to give the devil his due. Colt seemed to have a way of seeing through me. He could tell I was holding back, but he was patient, at least to a certain extent. He was completely right. I had run out on him, and that wasn't something he deserved. He'd been nothing but kind to me. I realized then, with a certain amount of shock, that the entire conflict between Colt and myself was my own doing. I was the one with the hasty condemnation, based on someone else entirely. I was the one with headstrong goals that weren’t practical. Worse yet, I had closed off my normally loving, generous, emotional heart to all males in general. In short, I was bitter. How could I set that example for my daughter? How could she ever hope to find a fulfilling, loving relationship with a man when my actions, body language, and disposition told her to stay away? When had I become so judgmental?
These realizations did not come easily to me. In school, things had seemed to always work out in my behalf. I got used to it, assuming that they were testimony to the fact that I was right. How foolish was that? Things also work out for people who are bad and wrong. Paul Romano was such an example. For that matter, take the man who was there beside me at that moment. To my knowledge, he'd never done anything to hurt anyone and yet he was on trial for having done just that. The worst part was, he had been set up and lies were told about him. The judge found him innocent, but society found him guilty. Or, was it only me who found him guilty?
He was watching me and while he couldn't guess as to the extent of what I was thinking, I believe he knew I was being thoughtful. And well I should be. I motioned to the sofa. "Would you sit back down for a few minutes before you leave?" I knew he hadn't mentioned leaving, but there were always certain points in conversation, little milestones where both parties find it polite to express their appreciation and take their leave. This was one of those points, but I decided I didn't want him to go quite yet.
"Sure," he smiled and sat down, extending a hand in my direction to bring me down next to him. How could he be so continually affable when I had treated him so poorly? Now was my time to remedy that.
"I think I may owe you an apology," I said quietly to which he snapped his head and shoulders backward, mocking me with incredulity. "No, no I really mean that. You've pointed out all along that I've made you my enemy and for no good reason. I don't know what it is, maybe your being here and maybe your being around Carrie, but I think you're right. Something happened, and I won't go into details, but it took away the innocence and trust I felt for others. To be very honest, I didn't see it in myself. You were the one who pointed it out. I owe you for that. For what it's worth, I'm sorry. You've given more than what’s been fair to me and I haven't given much back if anything." I didn't know what else to say. The words came hard and this surprised me. I'd always been so easy going. Somewhere I had grown hard inside and that made speaking difficult as it always is when you're wrong.
"Thank you for that. I will be very honest with you. I'm not a man who’s been known for his kindness, rather his efficiency and determination."
I laughed. "Determination? No, say it isn't so," I teased him.
"Nevertheless, you opened up a little and I think it is only fair that I open up likewise. So, what I'm admitting to you, is that maybe I should have pulled back and respected your boundaries better. I aggravated whatever was bothering you and that didn't help things. But all that said, I want to be with you. I don't want to be with anyone else. I'm guessing you're afraid that I'll see
you as a conquest and once you’ve surrendered, then I'll grow bored and move on?"
"You do have that reputation."
He was silent for a few long moments and then said in a very soft voice, "Someone did that to you once, didn't they?"
I looked at the floor but couldn't bring myself to nod. It was too humiliating, and the memories hurt as they flooded back into the front of my consciousness. He reached over and tapped my arm lightly.
"It's okay. We don't need to talk about it. But that doesn't change what I said. I do want to be with you, and I am determined person. So, I'm going to pull you over and kiss you now. I'm giving you advanced warning, so you can bolt from the room if necessary," he grinned, mocking me, "but I sincerely hope that you choose to stay put. Here we go now, here's the countdown, 3-2-1!"
I saw his hands move toward me and felt them as they grabbed my upper arms pulling me gently, but steadily toward him. I looked up at him, questioning, but his eyes were already closed as he bent and kissed me. It wasn't a simple or chaste kiss but one filled with desire and masculine triumph. What had begun as a lighthearted exchange had quickly boiled into a thick, heated need for one another. We entered that other world, the one without time or consequence. I never felt his hands as they pulled my shirt over my head or slid down the zipper of my skirt. All I knew was that I wanted him naked. The lamplight in the room was dim, and I looked at his body as he sat facing me. His shoulders were muscled and wide and tapered to a narrow waist. His upper arms were fluid extensions of his muscled chest, the veins standing up slightly from the skin. He had a ghost of a shadowy beard, mostly along the sides of his cheeks. I realized how sexy that was and wanted to feel those whiskers against my smooth skin. His brilliant blue eyes contrasted with the black hair that now had fallen forward, and they delivered a tantalizing, sexy look. And then my eyes traveled lower.
There was no mistaking that he felt the need, and that need was for me. His penis was fully erect, the veins standing out as the blood coursed through it, making it pulse with desirability. In some strange, primitive way, I couldn't help myself, but I lunged forward and put my hands around it, feeling him jerk from the sudden contact. Instead of pulling away, his hips moved toward me, as though he wanted to penetrate me without further delay. I put one hand on his chest and shook my head. "No, let me."
His eyes widened at the import of what I was saying. I bent down and placed my tongue on his reddened tip, running it around the circumference before sliding it into my mouth. I could feel the pulsing increase and he tasted slightly salty. I'd never done anything like that before and I wondered if I was doing it correctly. I open one eye as I quickly glanced at him. His eyes were half-shuttered, his head rolled back in passion. I let instinct take over. In that world we'd entered where there was no time, there was no accountability for the actions that followed. We only managed quick flashes of awareness, as when I realized what I needed to do to him, he felt he needed to do likewise. We fell upon each other's bodies, exploring with tongues and lips and fingers that felt for responses and then revisited to increase the desire until neither of us could stand it any longer. There was a flash of realization as I felt him enter me, gently and yet with an insistence that I couldn't deny. He fed me with himself, stroking me inside of my vaginal walls, twisting his hips so as not to miss an iota of tender flesh. He drove slowly, but insistently, from time to time stiffening when he reached my terminus. It felt exquisite.
There wasn't much room to maneuver on that little sofa of ours, but Colt made the most of it, consuming me from above. His hands fed my full breasts into his mouth and there, his lips and sucking tongue took over. Every time the tip of his tongue brushed my nipple, it was soft, creating a feathery explosion in my depths. He followed that with another stroke, the off-and-on contrast between the two driving my mind and senses into a sphere that hovered somewhere above us. I didn't think about recriminations, I didn't think about anything but Colt and what he was doing to me. I raised my hips to meet each thrust. I couldn't seem to get him deep enough or the flesh of our groins flat enough against one another to feel fulfilled. Perhaps that was the way it was intended, that the act was built of desire and lack of fulfillment. No, I was wrong, in those next moments, I felt the pressure building somewhere in my hips, the stimulation against the soft flesh of my clitoris. He was very aware of what he was doing to me, indeed I opened my eyes and saw him watching my face. He alternated in depth, in speed, and in the amount of flesh that touched between us. His hands came down and lifted my buttocks to an angle that allowed him to penetrate me more deeply, more rapidly and with greater finesse. Then we entered that world where the sky is filled with stars, you're not aware of breathing but only the exquisite breaking of shudders as they ripple through your body, making you convulse as you give in to them. I looked at his face briefly, his head thrown back, the muscles in his neck standing out and throbbing as he found his own world beyond. He jerked and held his body rigid, unwilling to interrupt their flow until they had subsided.
Colt opened his eyes and looked at me then and we exchanged a knowing glance. It was a look of lovers who recognized they’d found their partner in all things. Colt’s arms came down and slid beneath my back, lifting me as he rolled me atop him. I laid there along the length of his body, his skin damp from exertion. We were both breathing heavily, and he wrapped his arms tightly around me as well as his heavy leg and thigh encasing me as much as possible. We needed that touch. We needed that closeness, that lack of separation. We fought for it.
After some time, the ecstasy passed and we returned to our bodies. There was a short, uncomfortable moment when we realized there was nowhere else to go but down, back into our bodies, back into that awkward routine of conversation between us. He kissed me to ease the passing, and I wanted to climb into his skin and stay there with him forever.
Finally, I pushed at his chest and softly asked him to let me get up. In one movement, I rose to my feet, my hands lifting my heavy hair and rolling it into a bun tucked at the back of my head. My body needed ventilation, the sheen of perspiration and residual warmth from his body begged for cool air. I knew what I wanted but was hesitant; would he misunderstand?
"Would you like to take a shower with me?" I asked tentatively.
He didn't misunderstand; he didn't think I was trying to wash his fluids from my skin. We both wanted to feel fresh and clean and so he nodded and followed me and we crowded into the tiny standup shower. We took turns soaping one another's bodies and laughed as I tried to wash his thighs, but the cramped space caused me to slip and fall to the bottom of the shower stall.
He laughed loudly and bent to rescue me, lifting me up off my feet. He kissed my thighs and my womanhood and up the trail of my body to my nipples and into that soft space in my throat that throbbed when he made love to me. He slowly allowed me down to my feet and then wrapped his body around me.
"I wanted you so badly," he said softly, and I nodded, knowing.
We finally shut off the cooling water and wrapped in towels, taking turns drying one another's backs. He began pulling on his clothes and I went into the small bedroom, peered at Carrie and then drew a sleep shirt and a pair of fresh panties from the drawer. "I'm sorry, but I can't invite you to stay. There just isn't any room."
"I know," he said in a resigned tone. "But it was wonderful, you’re wonderful, and I want you more right now than I did before."
His words were reassuring and made me feel safe and wanted. I let them settle down over me like a warm furry robe.
"I'm going to leave you now,” he said. "I will see you tomorrow, so get in there and get a good night’s sleep." His voice was teasing in a pseudo-parent’s way. I nodded in response. Both of us seemed to hesitate to go back into that verbal world where we crossed swords. For the moment we were content, we were together, and it was enough.
He went to the door, opened it, and turned to say, “I will see you tomorrow." I nodded, and he left. I skipped over to the door and placed
my ear against the wood, listening to his footsteps as he descended the three flights of stairs until he reached the ground. I scooted to the window and watched him leave, climbing into his car and pulling into traffic and then finally he was nothing more than a pair of taillights that blended in with all the others. Sad that he was gone, I hugged myself and climbed beneath the covers of my bed. With a deep sigh, I was soon asleep.
Chapter 13
Coulter
I hated leaving Gwen. Her daughter was adorable, and I’d felt something unique when I held her. As an only child, I’d never been around children. It triggered something in me. I knew what Gwen triggered in me; that was completely clear.
I couldn’t figure out why she found it necessary to hide Carrie from me, and from others. I supposed she still carried her small-town stigma about single mothers. I knew she never married the father. It was one of the things I checked.
I decided to drive around the city before I went back to the condo. I felt restless, an unfamiliar feeling for someone whose workload was always quadruple what normal men worked. I did it deliberately. I had plans of being a permanent bachelor and whatever women would come and go through my life would be temporary. Now I was feeling a draw toward one single woman, and this was a totally new experience for me. It felt like things were moving quickly, almost dizzily, but that’s who I was. When I set my mind to something, I wasted no time. Too many things, really good things, had been lost due to hesitation. I had no plans of losing Gwen, ever.
I drove toward the lakeshore and found a vantage point where I could park looking out over the water. I could see boats making port in the distance and there was even a flash of lightning as a storm was approaching from the west. I decided at that moment that I would buy a boat, one large enough to handle the rough waters of Lake Michigan and sleep a half-dozen people. I knew nothing about boating, but I could hire people who did. I would take Gwen and Carrie with me. Hell, I would even invite Buddy and that ditzy Bitsy roommate. We could go up the coast on both states, making port in towns that looked interesting. I’d heard there were some beautiful sightseeing locations along Lake Superior. I decided I would begin looking the next day and felt a little excited at the anticipation.
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