by Jayci Lee
Once they were settled, he just sat drumming nervously at his knees. After a while, he inhaled and opened his mouth to say something, then stopped, ridges appearing between his eyebrows. She couldn’t take it anymore. She had to break the silence.
“So … what did you want to talk about?” Tara said with forced nonchalance. Maybe he would reveal what happened that night without her having to admit that she remembered nothing about how she ended up near naked in his bed.
“I wanted to talk to you before tonight, but I thought you needed time to get over your embarrassment,” he said softly. “But you don’t have to be embarrassed. It’s not a big deal.”
“Here’s the thing. I am embarrassed. Mortified. Humiliated. To death. But not for the reason you think.” She squinted at her nails, studying them with intense focus. “All I know is that I woke up next to you wearing nothing but a T-shirt.”
“What do you mean?” he asked warily.
“I don’t remember anything that happened after our toast to the dating dare.” She couldn’t look straight at him, so she peered at him through the corner of one eye. “Please don’t be offended, but I have to ask … did we have sex?”
“God, no.” His eyes widened and the corners of his mouth drooped in the most heart-wrenching, crestfallen expression. She felt like a complete jerk. “Of course, we didn’t have sex. How could you even think…”
“I’m so sorry. I knew there had to be another explanation for why I woke up naked in your bed.”
“There is,” he said stoically.
“I know, but doubt kept butting in to tell me I was grasping at straws to deny what really happened. You must understand why I needed to hear you say nothing happened?”
“I do understand,” he sighed, tilting back his head and squeezing the back of his neck. “But I wouldn’t say nothing happened.”
“Oh, no. What did I do?” She buried her face in her hands and groaned. “I kissed you. Didn’t I?”
“No, no. Nothing like that happened.” Tara peeked through her fingers at him. Seth nearly smiled. “You seriously don’t remember anything?”
“Nope.” She shook her head, letting her hands fall on her lap. “Nada.”
“Jesus. Okay. Let me start from after the toast then.” He leaned forward in his seat with his elbows on his knees. “I didn’t know how drunk you were until you started sliding off the stool at the brewery.”
“Which is irrelevant,” she said pertly. He wasn’t taking responsibility for how drunk she got. “I made the decision to drink however much I did. It was my choice and my responsibility.”
“It is relevant, because if you got incrementally inebriated like most people, I could’ve asked you for your address before you got completely wasted.” Seth ran a hand down his face as though just recounting the story was exhausting. “When I asked you where you lived, you said something about over yonder and onward ho. Do you have some kind of a pirate fetish or were you one in your past life?”
“I … uh…”
“And orange marmalade.”
“Orange marmalade?” Coffee and toast with orange marmalade was her idea of fancy teatime. But why would she bring up orange marmalade out of the blue?
“Never mind. That bit really isn’t relevant. The point is I couldn’t get your address out of you. Since I didn’t think it would do to leave you sleeping on the brewery floor, I had to improvise.” Seth dragged his fingers through his thick, wavy hair. His hair really was fantastic. Hello? Maybe she should focus on this nightmarish conversation, not his freaking hair. She had to rein in her attraction to him if she wanted to be in control. “I brought you to my hotel room, and that’s when you threw up on me.”
“I what on you?” she sputtered. Maybe he already wrote off the dating dare. Nothing like some puke to snuff out a spark of attraction.
“You spewed vomit like a woman possessed. Mostly on my shoes, but you managed to get some on your dress as well.”
“Oh, for the love of elves.” Tara pressed her hands against her flushed cheeks. This might be one of the most humiliating moments in the history of her whole entire life.
“All I did was help you get out of your soiled dress. The rest you did on your own.”
“The rest?”
“You insisted on stripping down to your birthday suit, bouncing and wiggling.” Seth stopped to clear his throat.
“So I stripped naked in front of you? You saw me naked?” Lightning, strike me now.
“Don’t worry. I didn’t ogle you. I put my T-shirt on you as quickly as possible.”
“But you still saw … everything.”
The corner of his mouth twitched suspiciously. “Only for a few seconds.”
She glared at him hoping to burn away his memory of that night.
“Once you were happily snoring,” he continued, “I rinsed the vomit out of your dress so you’d have something to wear back home. Then went to sleep next to you. That’s it. Nothing else happened. Not even a kiss.”
“I was wondering why the hem of my dress was damp,” Tara said under her breath. After all the kindness he’d shown her, he must’ve been shocked by her almost-accusation. “I can’t believe I just panicked like that and ran out on you. I should’ve waited for you to wake up and asked you what happened. I’m sorry, Seth.”
“I can understand how you could’ve reacted that way when you woke up with no memory of the night before. But you should’ve at least called me. I could’ve spared you the weeklong torture.”
“Right? Panic is not conducive to thinking.” And it had taken her this long to discover his kindness. He hadn’t taken advantage of her. He’d taken care of her. Warmth spooled in her heart. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” His gaze softened as it roamed her face. He’d seen her at her worst. Truly, nothing was worse than vomit. How could he still look at her like that? But his expression turned serious once more. “Tell me one thing. I’m not questioning why you had to ask me whether we had sex. It’s heinous, but it is something that happens to people in this messed up world. But do you really think I’m capable of taking advantage of a drunk woman?”
“No, Seth. I don’t,” she said, scooting on the couch to get closer to him. “I’ve seen how you are with your family and friends. You’re … all right.”
“You think I’m ‘all right’? Wow, that’s high praise coming from you,” he teased with a genuine smile.
“Yes, it is. And if you don’t behave, I’m taking it back.” Her smile widened in response. “But you are kind of one of the good guys, I guess.”
“That wasn’t so hard, was it? But do you mean it?”
“Yes, I do.”
“That’s good.” His expression turned tender again. “Because I wouldn’t have held you to the dating dare if that was how you saw me.”
He was giving her a chance to back out of the dare. She hadn’t expected such consideration from a player. Wasn’t his game to seduce and leave? But that just didn’t sound like him anymore. Well, the dating dare was still on.
“I may have grossed you out by spewing vomit on you, but you aren’t getting out of those dates,” Tara said.
With everything cleared up, she knew Seth was someone she could trust, and she wanted to spend more time with him. Was it wise? Most definitely not. Especially since he kept diverging from the playboy she had him pegged for. But she needed to distract herself from the hollowness that followed her since the wedding, and Seth provided the perfect solution.
“You promised me four interesting dates, and I’m holding you to it.” She narrowed her eyes at him so he knew she meant business.
“Is that so?” A cocky grin lit his face, wreaking havoc on her libido.
“That is so,” she confirmed with as much hauteur as she could muster.
“I can’t wait,” he said in a low, panty-zinging voice.
The air between them sang with electricity, reminding her of their dance at the wedding. She really wanted to touch him
again, and from the look in Seth’s eyes, he wanted to touch her back. It was time for her to get out of there so she didn’t jump him even before their first date.
“Great.” She shot to her feet. “I guess I’ll be on my way.”
“Right.” He stood up and walked her to the door.
A sudden thought occurred to her when they were almost at the door. “Does tonight count as one of our dates?”
“Oh, hell no.” He shook his head emphatically.
“Even if I kissed you good night?” she asked huskily.
“No.” Seth swallowed with some difficulty and croaked, “Not even with a good-night kiss.”
“Okay. Just making sure.” She rose to her tiptoes and placed a feather-light kiss on his lips. It was impulsive, but it felt right. Like marking the beginning of a new adventure. “Good night.”
He stood at the doorway looking dazed even as she drove away.
* * *
Seth sat at one corner of Landon’s restaurant, where it was only slightly dusty—they were putting in the hexagonal cement tile and wood flooring for the dining hall—and scrolled aimlessly through his Google search. He had vague ideas of a French restaurant in a neighboring city and a bar with live music, but it didn’t seem right for Tara. He could imagine her yawning halfway through the night. He’d promised that their dates would be fun and interesting, but he was stuck. Before he got worked up about his sudden lack of creativity, his phone rang.
“Hey.” He answered on the first ring, his heart beating like a deep bass drum.
“Oh, hey,” Tara said, her voice infused with surprise. He was confused for a second as to who had called whom. “This is Tara.”
“Yes, I know.” Seth chuckled.
“Just making sure,” she said, sounding downright nervous.
“So what is it?” he pushed. The urge to tease her was irresistible.
“What is what?” she said.
“I don’t mean to be rude, but you called me.” He grinned broadly, enjoying himself way too much. “I’m guessing you had a reason for doing that.”
“I was getting to that. Quit being so rude.”
“My apologies.” He bit his cheek to stifle his laugh. “Go right ahead.”
“Right. So … uh … what are you doing tomorrow?” She made a valiant effort to sound casual.
“Oh, this and that. You know, the usual,” he said vaguely.
“How am I supposed to know what your usual is?” Frustration rose in her voice. “Are you usually this annoying?”
“I’m free.” He’d better not push his luck. She might hang up on him, and it would be his loss. “I need to check on the restaurant in the morning, but other than that, my calendar is empty and sad.”
“Okay then.” There was a short pause before she said in measured tones, “I’m off tomorrow. Do you want to hang out?”
“Hang out?” he said slowly, as though the words were foreign to him.
“Yes, as in our first date?” She sounded mildly incredulous that he was being so obtuse.
“Ahh, now I understand,” he said gleefully. “You’re asking me out on a date.”
“Oh, shove it.” She was fully recovered from her brief bout of nervousness. “You already did the asking for all four dates. I’m merely choosing the time and the place.”
“By all means,” he said, leaning back in his chair. He’d gotten a good amount of work done at the restaurant with the subcontractors, and Tara’s call was a welcome break. “So what’s the plan?”
“I thought we could keep it simple. Maybe a picnic at the park and a walk along the river if tomorrow is as nice out as today.”
“That sounds great.” A quiet, easy day with her sounded like the perfect date. He wanted to get to know the real Tara, including the vulnerability he’d sensed in her at the wedding. “Since you came up with the idea, can I prepare the picnic basket?”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes, I’m sure. It won’t be any trouble. Is there anything you absolutely won’t eat?”
“I’ll eat anything as long as peas and cooked carrots aren’t involved.”
He recalled what she’d said about peas the night of the wedding. No, peas. Hate. Much hate. But the carrots were new. “Do you eat raw carrots?”
“Yes, I love them.”
“But no cooked carrots? Huh. Okay.” Every quirk he found out about her felt like a hidden gem he’d unearthed. “What time should I pick you up?”
“I don’t know. Around eleven thirty? Whatever works best for you. Let me give you my address.”
“I know where you live,” he said. “Over yonder where the houses are.”
“Oh, prickly pears. Why would I even say that?”
“Oh, I don’t know. Maybe because you’re someone who says things like ‘oh, prickly pears’?”
Laughter floated over the line. “We’re not allowed to say the Lord’s name in vain in our house, so I had to get creative. ‘Gosh’ got old after a while.”
“Say no more. A lot of my Korean-American friends come from devout Christian families.”
“I don’t know about devout. My parents stopped going to church years ago because they got so much crap about promoting Satan’s way with the brewery. But they still have their faith.”
“Isn’t judging others just about the most un-Christian thing they could do? Your parents didn’t deserve that.”
“Right? It’s quite messed up,” she said with quiet indignation. “Anyways, I think we were just setting up a date. Didn’t you need something from me?”
“Yes, your address please.” He grabbed a pen from his messenger bag and scribbled down the address on the back of a receipt.
“Okay, then,” she said before he could find something interesting to say. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“See you tomorrow,” he said quietly, reluctant to let her go.
If he didn’t want to spend all day staring at the clock, willing the hands to move faster, he’d better keep himself busy. He pushed himself off the chair and scanned the dining hall with his hands clasped behind his head.
The afternoon light filled the restaurant, giving it a sleepy, dreamlike ambiance—like sunlight streaming through the window of a neglected attic room. What was clutter and mess suddenly became something magical and surreal. It made a familiar tingling run down his arms to his fingertips. Taking photographs just for the sake of capturing beauty gave him an instant high. He might even be able to use some of the shots for the website.
He rushed to grab his equipment from his car, hoping he’d brought the right lenses. Rummaging through his bag and case, he found one that would probably work. With a camera bag on one shoulder and a tripod on the other, Seth rushed back inside. Thankfully, everyone was gone for the day, and he was able to concentrate on his inspiration.
The light transformed the wood dust floating in the air into tiny birds coasting the sky, their movements sinuous and graceful. He wanted to take pictures of his birds until the sun dipped out of sight. But he grudgingly moved on to the other parts of the interior because he only had about ten more minutes with the light. Then he became captivated by what he saw in the nooks and crannies of the unfinished French-country interior—the brass rooster pan left lying on the mantel, waiting to be hung, and the crystals peeping out from under the covered chandeliers, creating psychedelic rainbows against the wall. There was beauty everywhere.
When the ethereal overlay dissipated with the light, Seth felt a familiar weight press against his chest. This was just the beginning, or at least it used to be. In his past life, the photographs he took would be transformed with another layer of enchantment—his paint work. In his mind, he saw a secret beauty in the world that he could only communicate through his art. It allowed him to make real what he saw through his soul. But that time was long gone.
He used to put his heart into his work, and held out his art to the world like exposed nerves. It pulsed with life and hope. Every encouragement brought him
life, and every criticism felt like little deaths. But his love of art had always revived him. Until it hadn’t. The thing that brought forth his creative death was when his first love rejected his art, the very core of him, at his debut exhibit in the most public and humiliating way.
He pushed away thoughts of his past. What had happened happened. There was no point in lingering on it. Never again would he make himself so vulnerable that another person could destroy him. When he locked away his heart from love, his art couldn’t survive, because art demanded the same raw vulnerability as love. The dreamer in him that had burned so bright now only existed as a glimmer.
But Seth was happy the way he was. Not pouring too much of himself into anything or anyone kept him safe. He would never go back to living with his heart on his sleeve. It would be foolish to take such a risk. He wasn’t a masochist. Life was fun when he just skimmed the surface. He didn’t need the intense joy that his dream and love had brought. Pretty happy was enough for him.
And his arrangement with Tara was going to fit perfectly into his lifestyle. His lips tipped into a smile. She was such a dynamic woman. He had nothing but respect for her ambitions and single-mindedness. He appreciated her honesty, intelligence, and loyalty. A conversation with her was an adventure—always interesting and often hilarious.
And, God, she was so beautiful that she literally took his breath away. Seth wanted Tara to the point of distraction, but that wasn’t the driving force behind his proposition. It was about the fun and excitement of getting to know her better. He was moving to Paris next month, so he had to make the most of his time with her. And if their dates led to sex, he’d be fucking grateful. Getting to know her body would be another fascinating adventure.
He blew out a calming breath to slow down his suddenly pounding heart and dragged his hands through his hair. He felt a deeper connection with her than any other woman he’d dated, but that didn’t mean this was going to be different from any of his other relationships. She knew he was leaving in a month, and all they’d promised each other were four dates. They had no expectations of this leading anywhere, and knew exactly when it would end. Clear and uncomplicated. It was going to be a fun spring fling for both of them.