by Jade Kerrion
“And are you ready for that now?”
“If I find the right person, yeah.”
“Do you know what you’re looking for?”
“Yeah, I thought I did.” Someone like you—someone who makes me sit up and think, someone who makes me laugh and makes my gut tighten—only someone who is actually looking for a relationship. He frowned at her. “Do you have a twin sister, or something?”
She suddenly stiffened. “No, I don’t.” Her smile vanished and her hands gripped the edge of the table so tightly that her knuckles were white.
Rico stared at her, amazed. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to push the wrong buttons.”
She tried for a smile but it was forced. “Maybe this isn’t a good idea. You’re pushy.”
“I’m curious.”
“Same difference.”
He chuckled. “Not really. As a lawyer, you should know the difference. Well, I’m in. This has disaster written all over it, but I’ve always had a morbid sort of curiosity.”
“It won’t be the end of the world, believe me. Your heart’s not involved; it’ll be a scarcely noticeable blip on your fitness and heartrate tracker, and you’ll move on.”
“Have you ever had much luck telling your heart what to feel?” he asked.
Nicole stared at him.
Rico pressed his tongue against his cheek. “Yeah, me neither. That’s why this experiment is going to be fun.”
“What experiment?”
“To see if we can not fall in love when we tell ourselves not to.”
Her eyes narrowed. “This is an increasingly bad idea.”
“Your bad idea,” he pointed out cheerfully. “Look, it’s an affair for you, an experiment for me.”
“And what exactly are you trying to prove?”
“Telling you would spoil the experiment. Anyway—” Rico grinned. “I’m in. What’s next?”
“You already have my number. I’ll text you when I’m free, or you’ll text me when you’re free.”
“Okay. Are you free for the rest of the day?”
“The rest of the day? Why? Do you need more than an hour or two?”
“To get to know each other.”
“That’s not part of the plan.”
“Are you afraid of a change of plans?”
She spluttered. “No, of course not.”
“Great. There’s nothing better than New York in winter.”
“Really?” She sounded skeptical.
“There’s no gorgeous summer sun to distract you. There are lots of great places in New York I’m willing to bet you haven’t seen. Well, Saturday is my have fun day, and you’re going to have fun with me.”
Her lips tugged into a faint smile; the gleam in her eyes was amused. “Don’t I have a say in all this?”
“Yes. I’ll even make it easy for you. Multiple choice. A. Yes. B. Absolutely. C. What are we waiting for? D. All of the above.”
Nicole exploded into laughter. “Okay, Rico. One day. I’ll give you one day.”
“Great. Eat up. I’m not going to waste a moment of it.”
Chapter 4
Nicole had not woken up that morning expecting to spend the entire day out on a date with a man she had only met the day before, but by the time she, Rico, and Big Guy returned to her apartment in the late afternoon, she was almost willing to confess that she had had a great time.
On the one hand, the date had been unremarkable—a slow stroll around Greenwich Village, interspersed by long walks through Washington Square Park, mostly for Big Guy’s benefit.
On the other hand, she had never talked that much or that long to anyone who wasn’t a colleague or a client. She and Rico discovered that they were academic rivals. She had attended Columbia University; he had attended New York University. He was something of a foodie, apparently spoiled by a mother who was talented in the kitchen. She lived off take-out and leftovers. He loved sports. She didn’t know if she had a sports channel on her cable network, which she hardly watched to begin with. He was up-to-date on soap operas and reality shows, thanks to the gossipy receptionists in his clinic. Her gossip network, fueled by paralegals, focused on celebrities and wealthy, single men.
Rico snorted on a laugh. “That list wouldn’t include me.”
Probably not, Nicole thought. Perhaps not the wealthy part, but he made her laugh. Surely it had to count for something.
And Big Guy liked him. The Belgian Malinois was always nudging up against Rico’s leg for an affectionate rub between the ears.
She unlocked the door, and the dog glanced up at her before entering the apartment.
“Odd,” Rico mused.
“What is?” Nicole asked.
“Big Guy’s incredibly well-trained, but his training’s not conventional.”
“What do you mean?”
“A well-trained dog would not walk into the house ahead of the owner. In fact, a well-trained dog walks at heel. Did you notice Big Guy walk at heel at any point today?”
“Him?” Nicole laughed. “No. He’s always several feet ahead of us.”
“Exactly. Odd.” He gestured to Nicole to go ahead of him. “At least I haven’t lost my manners. Hey, come here, Big Guy. I want to check your splint and see if the swelling has subsided.”
“Do you want anything to drink?” Nicole asked.
“Sure. Whatever you’ve got will be fine.” He squatted down beside the dog and unwrapped the bandages from around its hind leg.
Nicole filled two glasses with wine she had chilling in the refrigerator, and then flipped through the stash of menus she kept in her kitchen drawer. “Chinese or Italian?” she asked.
“Homemade?”
“Oh, get real.” She chuckled. “I don’t have any non-instant food in the house.”
“But you have a little grocery store downstairs. Is it still open?”
“I suppose so.”
“Okay, hang tight. I’ll be back.” He rose easily and gave the dog a stern look. “No more walks for you today.”
Nicole straightened. “Is his leg okay?”
“It’s fine. He’s had a long day though. A rest couldn’t hurt.”
“Okay, you stay right there. I’ll bring you your kibble and water.”
Rico chuckled. “Go on and spoil him. It’ll make it harder for you to give him up.”
“But he’s such a cute fuzzy face.”
“A full-grown male Belgian Malinois would probably prefer to think of himself as handsome, rather than a cute fuzzy face, but what do I know?” Rico shrugged. “I’ll be back in about twenty minutes.”
Nicole waited until the door closed behind Rico. “Well, what do you think?” she asked Big Guy as she sat beside him and fed him kibble, a few nuggets at a time. The dog’s warm nose nuzzled against the palm of her hand as he picked the kibble out of her grasp. “You like him?”
The dog woofed.
“Think we should keep him, at least for a while?”
The dog stared unblinkingly at her.
“How about until after dinner?” Nicole said. “We’ll see if he’s any better than the microwave.”
The dog raised his muzzle and nudged her cheek.
Something about the closeness of a warm body—even if it wasn’t human—and the dog’s unquestioning acceptance of her cracked the façade she had spent years building. “Oh, baby.” Nicole flung her arms around the dog’s neck and leaned into his stoic, unmoving strength. “What are you doing here? And what is he doing here?”
It was supposed to be an affair. Not complicated. Not time-consuming. A clandestine meeting once or twice a week. Quick but satisfying sex. A hasty peck of the cheek before dressing and departing.
And done.
It wasn’t supposed to involve hanging out all day, or a hasty run to the grocery store, let alone a homemade dinner.
At what point did an affair stop becoming an affair?
She wished she knew so that she could put a halt to it before it got too far.
>
Too far?
We just started. Their affair was hours old, and she was already looking for an exit?
Nicole did not need to ask what was wrong with her. She knew exactly what was wrong, and she did not intend to fix it. Ever. Not when she had experience and all the good reasons in the world solidly on her side.
Because men can’t be trusted. Not in a real relationship.
Rico returned within twenty minutes with a paper bag filled to the brim. He wore a wide grin.
“So, what’s for dinner?” she asked.
“Prepare to be dazzled.” He unpacked the bag, laying the food on the counter.
Nicole peered over his broad shoulders. Broccoli. Sweet and colorful bell peppers. Tomatoes. Mushrooms. Hot Italian sausage. Tomato sauce. Gourmet pasta. A salad bag of mixed greens. A variety of spices—some of which she vaguely recognized.
“The trick,” he continued, “is to keep things simple and to allow the natural flavors to emerge.”
Nicole hiked herself up on the kitchen counter. “I’ll believe it when I see it.” She glanced at her watch. “I’m starting the timer.”
“The timer for what?”
“So that we’ll know how long it takes, and if the restaurant around the corner can deliver a pasta dish as tasty as what you’re cooking for less money.”
“Half the pleasure is in the cooking.”
“You just lost seven seconds there.” She giggled. “Keep moving.”
He brandished the broccoli like a wand and waved it in her face. “I will not be coerced by your A-type personality.”
“All right. Move over. Let me show you how we A-types get it done.” She jumped off the counter and nudged him sideways with a swish of her hip. She grabbed her chopping board and sharpened her Santoku knife. The peppers were first. The rhythmic chopping motion quickly came back to her. She had spent hours practicing it at Hannah’s Home. Forgetting wasn’t an option.
She swept the diced peppers into a pot and then glanced at her watch. “Two minutes twenty seconds. Are you taking notes, hot shot?”
“Let’s see how good you are with that knife when I’m doing this.” He set his hand over hers and pressed the knife safely on the countertop before his lips nuzzled the back of her neck. His warm breath against the sensitive juncture of her neck and shoulders made her shiver.
“You need to learn to relax,” he murmured. “All that tension…” His hands massaged at the tightness in her shoulders, but only succeeded in driving the tension into her stomach. Nicole closed her eyes and leaned against him. The strength of his chest steadied her; his arms embraced her. His closeness made her feel safe.
It was an illusion, she told herself, but for a few minutes, it would be all right to accept the illusion for what it was, as long as she knew it wouldn’t last.
But when he turned her around, she could only stare at him. He wanted her—desire darkened his gaze—but what she saw in his eyes was more complex than self-satisfying lust. For the life of her, she couldn’t make it out. Her natural poise, however, allowed her to recover quickly. Focus on the physical. On the now. “You’re not hungry, are you?” she asked, her voice husky.
“Not for food, but for you.”
Her heart thumping hard, she took his hand and led him toward her bedroom.
“Wait,” he said suddenly. “The cooking timer. You paused that, didn’t you.”
She stared at him in stunned silence for a moment. His crooked grin flashed, tearing a laugh out of her. “No, it’s not paused,” Nicole said, “but I’ll give you credit for any time you spend feeding my other hunger.”
Rico nodded. “Square deal.” He swept her up in his arms. The sudden vertigo made her throw her arms around his neck. Somewhere, she heard Big Guy bark, a woof that almost sounded like a laugh. It was all right, she thought, because she felt like laughing too.
Nicole and Rico did not have dinner until several hours later. She chopped and diced the vegetables. He cooked the sauce and made sure the pasta came out al dente. Then they sat down to dinner. Big Guy sprawled under the table between them, chomping on the Italian sausage that both of them took turns feeding him.
“Well, did dinner turn out all right?” Rico asked.
“How much were the groceries?”
“Thirty-two.”
“Add in a half hour of my time and your time at our respective hourly rates, this meal cost at least sixty dollars per head.”
“Whoa, what’s with the math? And besides, I don’t think my hourly rate is that high.”
Nicole laughed and leaned forward to stroke his cheek. “Based on your prowess in bed, I’d say it’s at least in the hundreds of dollars per hour.”
“Oh, that rate,” Rico said. “Crazy me. I was thinking of my salary as a vet.” He grinned and refilled her glass of wine. “And now you’re going to tell me that we should have just bought dinner from the restaurant, right?”
“$10.99 each, plus tax and tip. Includes free garlic bread.”
“Do you always do the math?”
“Don’t you?”
He dragged a slice of toast over the remaining sauce in his plate. “I think there are things math can’t account for.”
“Such as?”
“Fun. Pleasure. Passion. Or simply, experience. Speaking of which, you’re a pro with that knife. Where did you learn how to chop food so quickly and so precisely?”
“Hannah’s Home. I told you I used to volunteer there. Before I handled their legal cases, I worked in the kitchens, preparing food for the mothers and children in the shelter.”
“What led you to Hannah’s Home?”
She swallowed hard. “It’s too long a story. We’ll save it for another day.”
“Will staying the night count as another day?” he asked quietly.
Nicole bit her lower lip. He was pushy, but somehow she’d known it, perhaps even expected it. But what was he trying to prove? That people could get close, even affectionate, without falling in love?
It’s just an affair, and we both know it. Right?
She stared at him—the man who had made her laugh, made her dinner, and made her toes curl in bed. “I think you’ll need to earn more brownie points to get the story, but you can start by staying the night.”
His feet brushed against hers, and she jolted. It seemed such a small thing, but it was an intimacy she’d never enjoyed—or allowed herself to enjoy—before. Rico smiled at her, a quiet and satisfied smile of a contented man. “More pasta? I think there’s a bit more sauce left.”
“No, thanks. This was a good meal, the ROI notwithstanding.”
His eyes narrowed. “RO…Return on investment?”
She nodded.
“What you get out of life is in proportion to what you put in it.”
It was her turn to frown. “It almost sounded like a sermon.”
“A basic fact of life isn’t a sermon.” His smile widened to a grin. “Of course, I can’t help it if you’re feeling guilty.”
“Guilty about what?”
“Not giving us more of a chance than an affair.” Rico suddenly sounded serious. “I know what I’m looking for. I’ve been looking for a long time.”
“And what exactly do you think you’re looking for?”
“Someone different.”
“What?”
He nodded. “Different from the kind of women I was raised with. Women who played by the rules. Married. Gave up their careers. Had families.”
“Well, you’ve got different, all right, so why are you surprised when I’m different enough to not want a long-term relationship?”
“Because now I’ve realized that what I wanted is just slightly different, not completely different.”
She laughed even though his words stung. “Old comforts are hard to give up. The familiar feels safe.”
“Why do I get the feeling you’re about to say it’s actually not?”
Nicole wasn’t certain she liked the way he anticipated what
she was about to say. It felt too intimate. She shoved that uncomfortable thought away and focused on the conversation. “Because the familiar is not safe. Security that depends on other people isn’t certain.”
“Some people might say that’s what love and trust is.”
She stood because it was easier than sitting across from him and looking into his earnest eyes. “I don’t do love, Rico. Didn’t we already discuss it?”
“I don’t believe it.”
She turned her back on him and carried her plate into the kitchen. “What don’t you believe?”
“That you’ve given up on love. You’re too young to carry around that many broken hearts. Besides, a man would be an idiot to give you up.”
“You’ve known me for less than forty-eight hours. What makes you say that?”
“I think you always walk away first. Even now, you’ve got your eye on the exit.”
Willpower kept her from twitching with guilt.
“I’m right, aren’t I?” Rico asked. He walked over to her and tipped her chin up. “Well, I’m here to prove to you that short term can last a long time if you allow yourself to live in the moment and enjoy each one…like this.” His lips brushed against hers. For a single insane moment, she wanted to push him away, but he was so close.
It was hard not to feel safe around him.
She knew logically that it was not statistically possible for all men to be jerks, but until that day, her attitude had been, why play the odds?
Until Rico.
Odd how forty-eight hours could change her point of view. All he was asking for was a chance at a relationship without a timer clicking in the background.
Did she dare pause the timer?
“You’re thinking too hard,” he murmured against her cheek, but there was a smile on his face and laughter in his voice. “Stay in the moment. Stay with me.”
Then his lips were on hers—hard and demanding—wanting her, claiming her. She returned it with equal strength, equal fervor. Thoughts were shunted aside, half-formed, uncompleted, as they tumbled back into bed.
His cellphone rang.
He ignored it, and after a single frozen moment, so did she.