The Weight of Words (The WORDS Series)

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The Weight of Words (The WORDS Series) Page 34

by Georgina Guthrie

Patty peered out the window and held up a warning finger. “Fencepost, Daniel.”

  “Fencepost, Patty.”

  “Give my love to your brothers and tell them to call me if they know what’s good for them. And get your young lady there some food.”

  “I’ll get right on it.” He took her gloved hand and kissed it. “Love you, Patty.”

  “I love you too, my boy. Now move out of the way. It’s past my bedtime. I need my beauty sleep.”

  She closed her window, and we stepped back. As Gerald drove off, Daniel raised his hand to wave at the retreating vehicle. Then he turned to look at me, a goofy grin on his face.

  “Are you out of your freaking mind?” I asked him.

  “What?”

  “What do you mean what? You just told your grandmother my name, and now we’re going there for dinner on Sunday? Are you high?”

  He steered me down the path toward the car. “I know what you’re thinking, but it’s not a problem. Patty meant what she said. She won’t tell my parents a thing. Plus, I’ve got something on her, too. She doesn’t want my folks knowing about Gerald.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “I’m one hundred percent sure. I’m her favorite.” He winked at me. “She won’t breathe a word of this to my father. Wow, I can’t believe she was here all night.”

  “I know. What are the odds? Do you think we’re being punk’d?”

  Daniel laughed, opening my door and waiting for me to get settled before closing it. When he climbed in and started the car, I was still shaking my head in disbelief. Daniel tried to comfort me.

  “Do I look worried? Believe me, if there was something to worry about, you’d know.” He turned the heat on high. “Listen, if it was anyone else, you can bet your sweet ass I’d be having a frigging cow right now. But it’s not. It’s Patty. Trust me. Everything’s going to be fine, okay?”

  I sighed and nodded, trying to shake off my uneasiness. He seemed completely unfazed. “Hey, she fenceposted you.”

  “And I returned the favor,” he said, grinning at me. “You know what that means. In my family, a fencepost is an unbreakable bond.” He turned the heat down a notch; the air was gradually warming up. “I’m sorry if you felt railroaded, though. Are you sure you’re free to come with me on Sunday?”

  “Of course. If you think it’s okay for me to go, then I’d love to join you.”

  He smiled and grabbed my hand, pulling it onto his thigh as he pulled out of the lot and onto the road.

  “So, what did your grandmother mean when she said she wasn’t inviting your mom and dad because she wanted to have a good time?”

  “Patty and my father haven’t always seen eye to eye. My grandmother finds my dad a little, uh, rigid, shall we say? She’s a firm believer in seizing the day, and my dad’s morals are so firmly entrenched. He can’t do anything without dragging his principles along for the ride.”

  This was an interesting analysis. I’d always admired Dean Grant so much. But perhaps living with someone who always took the high road would get a bit wearing after a while.

  “I can’t believe I’m going to dinner at your grandmother’s,” I said. “It’s kind of nerve-racking. What if she doesn’t like me? What should I wear?”

  “I guarantee she’ll love you. And wear something comfortable. Some nice pants and a sweater or something.”

  “Okay.” I settled back again. Hell, if he was totally cool with it, who was I to worry?

  He glanced at me from time to time as he drove, his face brighter than I’d seen it in a long time.

  “I’m so glad we talked. Now there’re no more secrets. It’s very liberating.”

  No more secrets? Well, shit. Maybe as far as Daniel was concerned that was true, but a little gnawing voice reminded me that I hadn’t been completely honest with him. Not telling him the truth about Matt was eating me alive. Did I dare take the risk? And hadn’t Daniel just taken a huge chance by sharing his Oxford story? He’d finally opened up to me completely. I owed him the same courtesy.

  “Um, Daniel, there is one other thing that I need to tell you. You might not like it. Actually, you probably won’t like it at all. You might want to pull over.”

  He looked at me worriedly. “Well, that doesn’t sound good.”

  He pulled into the right lane and turned into the next parking lot. It was a picnic area, dark and deserted at this time of night. We parked in a corner, and he looked at me, brows furrowed.

  “What is it?”

  “I wasn’t going to tell you this because I knew you’d probably take it the wrong way, but I feel like it needs to be said, and you’ve shared everything with me. I don’t want there to be any secrets between us, either, but promise me you won’t freak out?”

  “I’ll do my best. Go ahead.”

  “Okay. Since we got together, you’ve been worried about Matt, assuming something was going on with us. There’s honestly nothing—and I mean nothing—but friendship between us. The only thing I can compare it to is your relationship with Penny. But to be truthful, there was a time when we did sort of toy with the idea of possibly getting together.”

  He closed his eyes and swallowed. “When was this, Aubrey?”

  “In first year, we kissed at a party, but it didn’t go beyond that. We both realized it wasn’t meant to be.”

  “So you kissed him four years ago?”

  “Yes.”

  “The idea of you ever kissing him doesn’t necessarily thrill me, but I think I can cope with that.”

  “Yes, but that’s not all,” I said.

  Daniel grimaced.

  I took a deep breath to steady my nerves. “On Valentine’s Day, we went to Canoe for dinner, as you know.”

  “Right.”

  “We were honestly there as friends, but then I saw you with Penny, and I thought you were together. I was so jealous, and I’d had a few drinks. I guess I kind of lost my mind, and we sort of, well, no, not sort of, we kissed—a few times.”

  “What kind of a kisses?” His voice was tight.

  “Real kisses.”

  “By real, I take it you mean passionate—intimate?”

  “I guess you could say that. At least I think they were supposed to be. But it didn’t feel right to me.” I grabbed his hand again. He looked down at our entwined fingers contemplatively. “I knew it was wrong, Daniel, because the whole time I was thinking of you, imagining what it would be like if it was you, wishing it was you kissing me instead of Matt. That’s all that happened. We both knew it was a mistake and decided nothing like that would ever happen again. He was rebounding, and I was trying to soothe my ego. It was a bad scene.”

  He looked at me, not speaking. I didn’t know what to do, or if I should say something else. But then, out of nowhere, he pulled his hand from mine, climbed out of the car and slammed the door. He was running away again? Couldn’t he ever deal with anything maturely? In the time it took me to begin contemplating whether or not to follow him, I realized he wasn’t running away. He was coming around to my side of the car. He opened my door.

  “Could you step out for a minute?” he asked, offering me his hand.

  I undid my seat belt and climbed out of the car with a sigh. Now what?

  He sat in my vacated passenger seat and fiddled with his iPod. The opening notes of Michael Bublé’s “The Way you Look Tonight,” the same song we’d heard no more than half an hour ago in the Palais Royale, filled the car. He got out, leaving the engine running and the door wide open so that we could still hear the song. He pulled me toward him, settling one hand on the small of my back and bringing the other to rest over his heart as he’d done earlier.

  “Thank you for being honest with me. I’m sure that wasn’t easy, given the way I’ve been acting this week,” he said softly.

  “So, you’re not mad?” I asked.

  “No, I’m not mad, my angel.”

  I looked at him in amazement. Would I ever understand the way his mind worked?

  He
smiled. “Not the reaction you were expecting, I guess? Forget all that for a minute. I was so disappointed earlier when Tiffany knocked on that bloody door. Don’t get me wrong, I enjoyed the champagne, but I’d have more than gladly traded the glass of bubbly for a few more quiet moments with you. Maybe it’s silly of me, but I love this song, and I was hoping it would provide the backdrop for more than just our first dance. I know the setting isn’t ideal, but at least I’ve got the mood music, right?”

  I nodded and watched his lips, transfixed.

  “You said when Matt was kissing you that you were imagining what it would be like if it was me instead?” He looked steadily into my eyes. “To hell with imagination.”

  My heart was pounding so hard I was sure he could hear it. I bit my lip and looked at him longingly. “What about Oxford?” I whispered.

  “Screw Oxford.”

  He cradled my face, his lips inches away. I closed my eyes, waiting for the moment of contact, and when his lips finally touched mine, they were warm and soft. Twice, three times, he kissed me tenderly. I leaned into him, reveling in the feeling of his hands moving down to my waist to pull me close and his teeth gently biting my lower lip. At last he turned his face and nudged my nose softly with his before claiming my mouth and teasing my lips open with his tongue. Slowly, torturously, his tongue slid against mine again and again, making me dizzy with desire. An involuntary sound—half moan, half whimper—betrayed how badly I wanted him.

  After a few moments, he pulled away. My eyes fluttered open, and Daniel was watching, his eyes lidded, the corner of his mouth turned up.

  “Are you all right?” he asked.

  “I’m better than all right,” I whispered. “How’s your Achilles’ heel?”

  “I’ll be making an appointment for physiotherapy first thing in the morning.”

  “Maybe I’ll come with you. I seem to be having a little issue with a weak sensation in my knees.”

  “Hmm. Well, in the absence of a suitable bookshelf to support you, why don’t you hold on right here?”

  He took my hands and curled my fingers around the lapels of his suit jacket. Then he spun me around, trapping me against the car as he pressed his lips against mine. The kiss deepened, becoming increasingly passionate, almost frantic, as weeks of unrequited longing tore through us.

  My hands tangled in his newly trimmed locks. His lips broke from mine briefly, tracing fiery kisses along my jaw. He tickled me with his stubble as he slowly moved toward my ear, where he paused for a moment to whisper, “I was right. You do taste amazing—the champagne chaser is definitely a bonus.”

  My God, he was so sexy! I kissed him feverishly, desperately, both of us now moaning into each other’s mouths. He reached down to undo my coat and quickly unbuttoned his suit jacket before pressing his body flush against mine. With nothing but thin layers of fabric keeping us apart, my head spun.

  I let my head drop back as he lowered his face to kiss and nuzzle my neck, awakening sensations I hadn’t felt in well over a year. His hands snuck inside my coat to grasp my hips, his hands traveling lower, cupping my buttocks as he ground his hips against me.

  “God, you’ve got the greatest ass,” he groaned.

  I was vaguely aware that I was gasping like I’d just run around the block several times. “Daniel,” I breathed.

  “Yes.” He sighed and nibbled on my ear lobe, sending delicious shivers through my stomach to the center of my body where a tense spring of desire waited to uncoil.

  If I allowed things to continue, I had no doubt his hands would be traveling under the hem of my dress any minute, and we’d be in the back seat in a heartbeat. That was mighty tempting, but what had I said to him an hour ago? “Let’s start at the beginning, not at the end.” I didn’t want to be the one sending mixed messages now. Regardless of how badly I wanted him to touch me—everywhere, and right now—I wasn’t prepared to have sex with Daniel in the back seat of his car, at least not tonight. I wanted our first time to be romantic, not cheap and tawdry.

  Our second time? Now that could be cheap and tawdry.

  “Daniel, we should stop,” I panted, trying to pull away.

  “No, not yet,” he pleaded, tenderly kissing me again with measured control, his tongue moving deliberately against mine. Gradually he loosened his grasp, slowly pushing me back, kissing me sweetly, calming the stormy passion that was raging through me.

  “Stop—please,” I sighed between kisses.

  He leaned back to look at me, running his thumb across my lower lip. “You’re trembling all over.”

  “Not to question your ability to make me quiver with desire, but I’m actually freezing.”

  He looked at me in stunned silence for a second or two. “Crap, of course you are. I’m such a moron.” He kissed me once more and groaned with frustration. “Come on. Let’s get you back into the car where it’s warm.”

  He helped me in, closing the door behind me. I turned the heat on full blast and held my hands over the vent to warm them, quietly chanting, “Thank you, God. Thank you, God,” while beaming my stupid ass off.

  If his incredible kisses were any indication of the hot times in store for me, the future was looking mighty bright indeed, since what I’d just experienced in mere moments showed that Daniel was capable of extreme tenderness as well as pure, unadulterated lust.

  I peered out the front window. He was standing off to the side of the car, his hands clasped on top of his head, a look of what can only be described as agony on his face. What the hell was he doing? I leaned over the driver’s seat to watch him as he dropped one hand to his hip and rubbed his face roughly with the other, pacing back and forth a few times. After another moment or two, he strode to the car and climbed in.

  “Are you okay?” I asked.

  “Yes, I needed a minute to pull myself together. Jesus Christ.”

  “Sorry.”

  “Don’t be silly. If this is how it’s got to be, then so be it. I need to learn to deal with it until—well, you know.”

  I smiled and nodded. “Okay, no more apologies. I don’t want you to be angry with me, that’s all.”

  “I’m not angry with you. I knew our first kiss would blow my mind. I warned you.”

  “Yes, you did.”

  “Are you feeling warmer?”

  “I’m fine now, thanks,” I said, pushing myself upright and crossing my legs.

  “God, give me strength,” he muttered, his eyes darting down to my legs as he turned the stereo off.

  “Blew your mind, huh?” I asked.

  “Don’t pretend you don’t know what you do to me,” he said, lacing his fingers in mine and resting our joined hands on his thigh again.

  God, while you’re giving him strength, toss a little my way too.

  He looked over at me. “What are you thinking?”

  I laughed. “Not telling.”

  “You’re not having regrets, I hope?”

  “What, about kissing you? Lord, no. Don’t even go there. I’m just kind of impressed with my self-control.”

  “Well, I’m glad you had your wits about you. I was this close to tossing you in the back seat.”

  “Yeah, I had a feeling I’d better put a stop to things or you’d be teaching me the naked mambo any minute.”

  He laughed in an I’ve-been-drinking-Guinness-all-night kind of way.

  “Aubrey, where do you come up with this stuff? You crack me up, I swear.”

  “And you’re not mad at me? About—Matt?”

  “Let me ask you something. When we were kissing, who were you thinking about?”

  “Well, obviously I was thinking about you. I was thinking about how I wanted to rip your clothes off.” I laughed. “I just want you, sailor.”

  “See?” He smiled. “That’s all I need to know. All this business with Matt? I’m over it. We have enough other crap to deal with. But for the record, I wanted you to rip my clothes off, too.”

  He brought my hand to his lips, eyes spark
ling as he brushed a kiss across my knuckles. I couldn’t believe how well he’d taken my news. Something had changed in the course of the last few days, maybe even the last few hours. He seemed prepared to take my words at face value and believe that what I was saying was the absolute truth.

  “This has been one of the most insane days of my life,” he said.

  “Ditto.”

  “I’m happy with the compromise we’ve reached, but before I take you home, we do have one other piece of unfinished business.”

  He leaned back and pulled a plastic bag through the space between the seats. It was the bag I’d asked Julie to give him.

  “Oh, crap. How much did you hate me when you opened that?”

  “I didn’t hate you, poppet. I was gutted.”

  “Is the T-shirt in there?”

  “Yes. The calendar, too. You want them back?”

  “Of course I do.”

  “Wait, there’s something we have to do first,” he said, pulling the calendar out and turning the page to March. “Where’s the pen?”

  I rummaged in the bag and uncapped the marker. He wrapped his fingers around mine and together we put an X through Tuesday, following suit with Wednesday and Thursday.

  “What do you think?” he asked. “Is today over?”

  “Close enough.”

  We filled the box for the thirteenth with an X, then he took the pen, and with a soft chuckle, Daniel traced a big red heart around the thirteen.

  “After all, it is our anniversary,” he said with mock earnestness.

  “Oh, of course,” I said. He was adorable.

  “I’m not completely ignoring what you said earlier, by the way. Maybe you won’t even be ready to—you know—move forward when the semester’s over, but that doesn’t mean I’m going to stop counting down. If nothing else, I know that in forty-seven days I can take you to Tim Horton’s and hold your hand in public while we sit at a table, drinking coffee and eating Timbits.”

  It was ridiculous how wonderful that sounded. He pushed the calendar and pen back into the bag.

  “There. Done and dusted. Right, then, let’s get you home. Do you still have your gloves?”

  I checked my pockets and pulled them out. “Ta da! Both of them.”

 

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