We curled our legs under us on the blanket, and I poured wine and spread out the cheese, fruit, and sandwiches I’d brought.
Dani talked excitedly about the park, about the shop. I tried to participate in the conversation, but she flew from one topic to the next, and if I was honest, I was content to just watch her and listen. She was like a force of nature—completely comfortable in her skin, wild and unbound.
“I’ve been talking about myself all night,” she said as we finished the wine, a blush creeping into her cheeks.
“I like listening,” I said honestly. But more than that, I liked the way her hand had found mine as we faced each other. I liked that while there were people picnicking all around us, she was the only person I could see, her honey hair highlighted by the glowing lights overhead.
She ducked her head, as if she was embarrassed, but before I had a chance to say anything else, a voice came over the speakers around us, announcing that the play would begin in ten minutes.
“I guess we should pack up,” I said, “go inside.”
She sat up and began putting things back into the basket, though we’d done a pretty good job finishing the meal I’d brought. “I didn’t eat my cookie. Neither did you. Think I’ll get in trouble if I sneak them in?”
I shook my head as we folded up the blanket and grinned as she stuck the huge cookies into her bag while glancing guiltily around. We walked toward the theater, her arm looped through mine as if we’d been this way forever, arm in arm. She made everything so easy and comfortable, just being near her cleared my mind and filled my heart. Other parts of me responded to her, too, but the gift Dani gave me was mostly that she allowed me not to think too much.
We let the crowd carry us forward into the theater, where I presented our tickets and we took our seats. Not the best, since I’d bought them last minute. But at the Old Globe, it didn’t matter much where you sat.
Dani’s head rested on my shoulder as King Lear got underway, the grisly drama unfolding as I put a hand on her knee, letting it roam higher in the dark theater. Lear had never been especially uplifting, but Dani didn’t seem to mind. She was rapt, and I tried to keep my attention on the stage, rather than on her face, on the way she gasped and laughed as the drama played out.
At intermission we stood just outside the theater as people milled around under the lights. I shoved my hands into my pockets. Something about sitting next to this girl in the dark, feeling her moving and breathing next to me, had been much more intimate than I’d anticipated. My body was pulsing with a desire to touch her, take her.
Dani glowed with excitement, talking about the first act of the play, her voice rising and falling in a way that made me want to pull her into my arms just to be closer to her. Dani’s fundamental essence drew me in. There was something addictive about the lightness and freedom I felt at her side. I let myself bask in it as she pulled one of the cookies from her bag and offered me a bite.
“Mmmph,” she groaned. “This is amazing. This is from that deli we stopped at?”
I nodded, chewing.
“I might have to do some kind of ninja field research to see if I can get my hands on this recipe.” She tilted her head and inspected the plastic-wrapped remainder of the cookie as if it might tell her its secrets. “I think they put crack in here.”
I grinned. “Probably not.”
“There’s something secret in here,” she said, still staring at the cookie. She offered me another bite, and then finished it. “I might have to use yours for further research,” she said, pulling it from her bag. Her eyes shot me a question, waiting to see if I’d fight her for the cookie.
“It’s yours.” The smile that crossed her face was more than enough reward for giving up my cookie.
Her eyes met mine then, and the bright happy smile turned into something else. I could almost see thoughts flicking through her head as her clear eyes held mine.
The chimes sounded and the overhead lights flashed, signaling the end of intermission, but we didn’t move. Our eyes held us fixed in suspended animation, questions and answers passing between us as people pressed around us, going back inside. As the last few people trickled past us, Dani broke the gaze. “We should go in,” she said, her voice low and heavy.
I nodded.
She took my hand and we turned, but as we resettled in our seats, something had changed. The carefree happy atmosphere between us was gone, and Dani’s hand found mine in the darkness. She pulled my hand back to where it had been during the first act, resting on her soft thigh. Only now she pulled her skirt higher so my fingers met flesh instead of fabric, and my blood beat a furious rhythm as she laid her hand on top of mine with a deep sigh.
Her hands roamed up my arm, tracing circles and trailing fingernails in an almost painful path across my skin. My breath came quicker as the play went on and Dani grew bolder, leaning into my side and flicking her tongue against my ear as she eased my hand down around the inside of her thigh in the seat. I let my fingers cup her skin, the hard seat against my fingernails as my palm slid along the smooth inside of her leg.
It became more difficult to be a gentleman, and after what had happened in her shop, I’d told myself I wouldn’t press. My pants were pulling uncomfortably against my erection, and we might as well have been watching paint dry for all the interest either of us had in what was happening onstage. When Dani turned her body toward me, her teeth nipping hard on my earlobe and her hand dropping into my lap, I sucked in a sharp breath, drawing looks from those seated in front of us.
“You’re not watching the play,” I managed to whisper.
“No, I’m not,” she whispered back.
“Come on,” I said, taking her roaming hand and pulling our stuff out from beneath our seats. We hurried across the row and out of the theater, me practically dragging Dani along behind me.
As we pushed out the doors of the theater into the cooling quiet night of the park, my mind was rushing again. But it wasn’t the confused turning I was used to, trying to make sense of everyday things, searching for words, managing emotions. It was focused on one thing only—Dani. I stopped and turned to her, dropping the basket and blanket and pulling her into me roughly.
Dani tilted her head and opened her mouth slightly. It was all the permission I needed. I slanted my mouth over hers, sliding my lips against her soft, full ones. I let my tongue trace the seam of her mouth and it opened to me, her tongue meeting mine. We deepened the kiss, both of us pulling against the other, our tongues sliding, thrusting. My blood pounded as I cupped the curve of her ass, enjoyed the softness of her wild hair.
“We have this blanket,” she breathed, breaking the kiss with a glint in her eye.
I stepped back. Was she suggesting what I hoped she might be?
She picked up the blanket and took my hand, pulling me toward the darkness of the park beyond the theater lights. I carried the basket, letting her tug me along. “You’re missing the end of the play,” I told her.
“I think I can find out what happens.” We walked into the cool darkness, moisture filling the night air around us with a dewy closeness. Dani pulled me down a hillside and spread the blanket beneath a stand of trees clustered together like guardians. I dropped the basket.
Dani’s hand was still in mine, and she pulled me toward her, lowering herself onto the blanket and pulling me down on top of her. My body was stretched along the length of hers as I rested on my forearms and knees above her, and I let myself have a moment to process what was happening.
This girl. This perfect girl had led me to a dark corner of the park and was laying beneath me, pressing herself up into my body. And smiling. Always smiling. Something in my chest leapt again, and as I lowered my mouth to hers, a warning sounded in my head. This girl… I was falling for her. And that was going to be complicated—especially if she decided that an unemployable ex-firefighter with a traumatic brain injury wasn’t her thing. And really, whose thing would that be?
I kissed her,
letting my body press down on her, feeling her legs against mine, between mine. My swollen dick was pressed against her hip, and it was all I could do not to grind there, create the friction it demanded. I’d wanted to take things slowly, give her and my fucked-up brain time to process each step we might take.
But as Dani arched up into me and fumbled for the hem of my shirt, tugging it off over my head, my brain stopped turning. It was all happening quickly, but I wasn’t the one pressing the issue. Not right now, anyway. Maybe this would go nowhere. Maybe Dani would come to her senses in the morning. But until then…
I shivered, Dani’s hands tracing my skin, leaving lines of fire beneath her smooth palms. I slipped one hand down to trace the line of her leg back up her body, lifting her skirt and moving my hips to press myself against her, sending spikes of sensation up my spine as my dick got just a taste, a tease of the friction it wanted. But then her hands were on my belt. She pressed against me, rolling me to my back, and then knelt beside me, unfastening my belt and waistband with a single-minded focus as I reached up to brush the hair from her face.
The air around us shivered in the night, the scent of orange blossom filling my nose as Dani took over my other senses. I lifted my hips as she eased my pants down, glad for the darkness that would hide the burn scars on the backs of my calves. And then she straddled my legs, her skirt flowing around us, her hands on my thighs. I could just see the glow of her skin in the diffused light, shimmering there above me, ready to take me in her mouth.
As she lowered her head, sensation exploded through me. Her mouth was soft and warm, her tongue like silk against me. Her hands cradled and tugged as she began to move and suck, and stars shot across the backs of my eyelids. It wasn’t just that a girl was straddling me, blowing me in the middle of a public park, though that was sexy as hell. It was the fact that it was Dani. This girl.
It was nearly impossible to find the presence of mind to stop her, but I wanted so much more than to explode into her mouth. I wanted her. I wanted to feel her around me, under me. I wanted to hear her soft sighs and gentle moans, to make her scream with pleasure if I could. I wanted to make her happy. Since the first time I’d seen her, I’d wanted to make her happy. And as she stared up at me after I’d pulled her shirt gently off over her head and then lavished her with kisses and attention, I realized I would happily spend a lifetime making this girl happy. Because every second I was with her, she was doing the same for me without even trying.
I reached for my wallet, retrieving the condom inside as she watched me with eyes glistening in the faint distant light, her breath coming in short huffs. She stilled my hands, taking over and rolling the condom down my length with wide eyes, and then she took me in her hand again and just held me there for a few seconds. After a moment she shifted her weight and brought me to her entrance, arching under me as she slipped me gently inside.
We moved slowly, inch by inch, rocking together, our hands sliding along skin, mouths hot against each other. It seemed to last an eternity, and it ended much too quickly. She tensed beneath me, her channel cradling me and tightening around me, and I tried to maintain control. I pushed into her with the same steady, rolling pressure I’d been using, barely able to control the urge to thrust as hard as I could, to find my own release. The lights of the theater brightened behind us as the play ended, and as I heard distant voices echoing through the trees, Dani came apart beneath me. She cried out, her voice throaty and rough, and I let myself fall apart as well, the world spinning around us as I came.
Afterwards, we lay together quietly for a while, our breaths matching, bodies cooling. I pulled the edge of the blanket over us and kissed her softly.
“That was almost as good as the cookie,” she whispered, a grin lighting her face.
“Oh, yeah?” I asked, pretending to be offended. “Can’t beat baked goods, I guess.”
She shook her head, her hair splayed out wildly on the blanket around us. “No, I’m kidding. You win.”
My chest squeezed and I pulled her into me. This moment would end—I knew that. But I wanted to draw it out as long as I could, stay hidden in our little copse of trees, away from the world. Away from the complicated questions that haunted me. For now, this was all that mattered.
Chapter Sixteen
Dani
I lay cuddled at Rob’s side, pulling warmth from his skin as the cool damp evening settled around us. I stayed there trying to keep my mind quiet, to live in the happiness that my heart and body felt in Rob’s arms. But I was terrified at the same time because now I’d really done it.
I did believe it was possible to have sex without involving your heart. But not for me. And the moments I’d just spent with this incredible, complicated, ridiculously sexy man were seared across my heart like a brand. This incredible, complicated, sexy man…who already had one foot across the border. You’d think, given my aversion to being abandoned, that I could at least choose someone who wasn’t actually contemplating moving to another country.
The whole evening was probably a terrible idea. But when he’d asked me out, there was something so vulnerable and hopeful in those fierce green eyes. And my heart had spoken before my mind had time to stop it. I’d said yes because when I’m standing near Rob, close enough to feel that electric buzz in the air, I lose myself. I forget everything I’ve learned about men and life, and I make stupid decisions. And because I really, really like him.
And tonight, fueled by wine, Shakespeare, and what was seriously the best cookie I’ve ever had in my life, I pretty much attacked Rob in the theater. And I knew that was how we wound up here.
“Guess we should get dressed,” I said, reaching around for my bra and shirt.
Rob handed them to me, that sweet smile still on his lips. He’d been amazing tonight—relaxed and calm. I’d felt none of the nervous energy that sometimes poured out of him when he was stressed. He’d listened to me babble incessantly, and somewhere in the midst of telling him everything from the part I’d played in the school production of Beauty and the Beast at ten (the candlestick) to describing what it had been like to let Nan go, sitting by her bedside in my last year of college, somewhere in the middle of my mouth running on incessantly, I’d dropped my guard.
I couldn’t meet his eyes now, though, as I stood and gathered our things together. I slipped my shoes back on and pretended to be interested in the crickets that shrilled nearby, in the darkness of the sky overhead. The wind had risen and the night was turning from summer cool to ominous as a rare storm gathered itself together.
“Ready?” Rob’s voice came at my side and his arm went around my waist.
We left our hiding place among the trees, and with every step back toward the truck I grew more confused. Why hadn’t I held on to my logical convictions? I’d always lived by my heart—that’s what Nan had told me, letting my feelings be my guide and approaching the world with what she called my “true face.” But as far as I could see, it had always turned out badly. For me, at least. This time, I’d vowed to lead with my head, not my heart. But right out of the gate, trying to live logically and let my mind be my guide, I’d failed. The old Dani was right back where she always was, teetering on the cliff’s edge of heartbreak, falling in love with someone she could never have.
The realization that I was falling in love with the strong quiet man next to me didn’t hit suddenly or bowl me over all of a sudden. I realized, as he guided the huge truck back toward my little house, that it had been building slowly in the distance, like the storm that was sweeping down around us now.
A flash of lightning lit the trees overhead, quickly disappearing, leaving us to wonder if it had happened at all until the crash of thunder confirmed it. The world outside was stirred up and churning, and my own world felt the same way. Had I just ruined everything? It was awful to feel so much happiness and so much fear in the span of one evening. My mind raced.
“Thanks for a nice evening,” I managed, as Rob pulled into our driveway. I was fin
ding it hard to meet his eyes, my own thoughts pulling all my attention. “It was…” I trailed off, my hand on the door latch.
“Dani.” Rob’s voice was quiet and I could feel his eyes on my face. “Hey.” He reached across the vast space between us, his warm fingers tracing my chin, the side of my jaw.
I raised my eyes and met his, and my blood ignited once again. I was falling in love with this man. This strong, beautiful man, who I knew was on the verge of leaving. He was going to reclaim a life that should have been his in the first place, and who the hell was I to stop him? Or to even wish him to stay. “I’ll see you at the shop Monday?”
“No work tomorrow?” Rob’s slow deliberate question pulled at me, twisting my heart around the blade of a knife because it held the confusion and disappointment my sudden shift in mood had obviously inspired in him.
“Day off,” I smiled, patting the hand that now rested on the center console, and then instantly wishing I hadn’t touched him at all. My heart leapt with even the slightest contact with his burnished skin.
He nodded. “I had a good time,” he offered.
Sliding off the seat and down onto the driveway, I turned back to rest my elbows on the high seat and look up at him. “I did, too, Rob,” I assured him. “Thank you.” I tried to make my words sound sincere and genuine—because good didn’t begin to describe the time I’d just spent with him. But I also tried to make them sound final. Because I didn’t want him to believe I expected it to happen again. I didn’t want him to think I expected anything. I was a big girl. I’d made choices and handed my heart to yet another man who would likely take a piece of it with him when he left. But Rob needed to be free to go. He deserved that, and I’d just unlocked his cage. “Bye,” I said.
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