by Peggy Bird
She started to ask what he could possibly owe her, but then she looked into his eyes. The summer blue-sky color she’d seen there all day was now dark and hot. Hotter than any summer sky she’d ever known.
Her breath caught in her throat as his hands moved up from her shoulders, caressing her neck on their way to cupping her face. He was going to kiss her again. She knew it. She wanted it. She licked her lips in anticipation.
But instead of kissing her, he said, “I don’t know how you do it, but you make me feel more alive than anyone I’ve ever met. Today, seeing the city, the water, even the fish tossing, through your eyes was amazing. You were the guide today. The guide to being happy and content with life. That’s what I owe you.”
She circled his neck with her arms and took a step closer to him. “And how do you propose to pay your debt, Mr. Jordan?”
He showed her by pressing her against her car then moving his hands to her hips and pulling her close so she could feel exactly how he might pay off what he said he owed her. Slanting her head to meet his mouth in the right place, he brushed his lips against hers then used the tip of his tongue to explore from one corner of her mouth to the other. He teased her mouth open, stroked her tongue, asking her to join him in the dance.
She tasted the wine they’d had for dinner, heard the groan from the back of his throat as his tongue made love to her mouth, smelled the citrus aftershave he wore, felt the warmth of his hands on her body.
The kiss was even steamier than the one on the ferry. His hands roamed up and over her hips to her waist and then the sides of her breasts. She knew any second he would discover how tight and hard her nipples were, wanted him to find out what his kiss did to her.
Instead, he drew back, touched her forehead with his, moved his hands down to her waist. “This isn’t the time or the place for this, is it?”
“Probably not,” she agreed. “But it was nice.”
He smiled. “Nice? Yes, it was nice.” He gave her one more kiss on the forehead before stepping back. “We’ll have to do this again, won’t we?”
“Yes, I’d like to.” She opened the driver’s side door and slid in.
“Will you text me to let me know you got home okay?”
“I don’t have your phone number.”
“Give me your cellphone, please.” When she retrieved it from the bottom of her purse, he punched in his number. “Now you do.”
• • •
“You’re in a remarkably good mood for a Monday morning,” Nate said as he passed Taylor in the hall. “You’re humming. I’ve never heard you hum before. It must have been a hell of a weekend.” He stopped and waited for an explanation.
“On my way to work this morning, I heard a song I liked coming from someone’s car. Must have gotten it stuck in my head.” Taylor wasn’t sure he was ready to share his weekend with anyone, much less the architect of the fix-up on Friday, so he tried to walk on by.
Nate was not about to let the conversation end, however. “Right. It’s an earworm.” If he ever snorted, it would have been right then. “You can’t fool me. I have a feeling my sneaky plan yielded good results for one cute little brunette and you.”
When Taylor didn’t turn around or respond, Nate said, “Come on. Humor me. I’m stuck in the middle of a divorce, which has been dragging on forever, and have to live my life through other people. I’d like to know someone is having a decent, normal social life. Won’t you at least answer one question—did you or did you not take Bella Rodriguez on a tour of the city?”
Taylor stood still for a moment before his good mood softened his resolve to keep his extraordinary weekend all to himself. “I met her downstairs for a drink on Friday after work. And then we went to dinner.”
He ran his fingers over his jawline, trying to decide if he had fed Nate’s curiosity enough and if he wanted to admit to the rest. “You get enough jollies, or do you want more?”
“Is there more? If there is, then hell, yes, I want it.”
Damn. He’d have to remember to watch his words more carefully. “We went to the Market on Saturday, then took a ferry ride.”
“How romantic of you. I didn’t think you had it in you.” Nate wrinkled his brow. “But that’s not all, is it?”
“We had dinner again.” Taylor finally turned and glared at his friend. “Now can I get to work, please?”
“I’m impressed. And happy for you both. You need to get back into circulation, and she needs a friend in town. Not to mention some diversion from the problems they’re having getting Summer’s business up and running. Did she talk about it at all?”
“No, we pretty much stayed away from talking about work.” Because if she ever found out he’d had a hand in creating her problems, she’d be so pissed she’d never speak to him again. “I better get to work before I forget what I’m supposed to be doing.” Or give in to the temptation to confess what he’d done and see if there was any way out so he could keep seeing her.
• • •
“Morning, girlfriend. What’s up for your week?” Summer began their Monday morning Skype session with the usual question.
“I went over the marketing plan with Nate last Friday so I have all my notes to organize and get to you. Then I thought I’d ...”
“Wait. Rewind. You went over it with him. You didn’t send it to him?”
Bella realized what she’d gotten herself into and now needed to get out of. “Well, yes. I thought it would be better if we talked it over in person instead of through e-mails. You know how impersonal and imprecise e-mailing can be.”
“Yes, I also know how eager you were for the Viking god to call you. So I’m guessing he didn’t and you decided to force his hand. Nice work. Can we do a virtual high-five, girlfriend?”
“You don’t mind that you’ll get billed for the forty-five minutes Nate and I talked so I could see Taylor Jordan?”
“If I say it’s a good investment in the mental health of my employee, will you tell me if it paid off?”
Bella sank back in her chair, grinning. “We had drinks and dinner on Friday. Then on Saturday, he played tour guide a bit and showed me some of Seattle before we had dinner again. It was a great day.”
“So ...?”
She waited for Summer to say more. She didn’t. “Is there a question there?” she finally asked.
“You do realize I can see you, don’t you? And what I see is the look of a woman who’s quite happy with herself. Let me repeat, and with even more emphasis, so ...?”
“There’s no more to tell. We had a great time. He kissed me goodbye after dinner and said we’d do it again—I think he meant the sightseeing but he could have meant the kiss—but we didn’t make definite plans.” She leaned forward onto her forearms. “He’s interesting, if a little strange about some things. Probably the most organized person I’ve ever met. You should see his condo ...”
“Whoa, whoa. Not so fast. You were in his condo? That bit of information didn’t make it into the description of what you’d done on Saturday. Or did you stay Saturday night and were there Sunday morning, too?”
“Oh, for heaven’s sake, Summer. You know me better. I don’t fall into bed with just anyone. We went there between the ferry ride and dinner to defrost with a cup of coffee. What I started to say was, it’s so neat, it’s like it’s been staged by a real estate broker. Everything in place. And he’s only been there a few months, he said. It takes me a year to get settled, and even then I move things around every few months forever.”
“You don’t mean he’s OCD organized, do you?”
“No, he’s not extreme. He’s, well, organized in an ordinary way, I’d say. He says he plans everything carefully. I get the impression he likes to be in control.”
“Not dangerously in need of controlling things, I hope.”
“He didn’t try to force me to do anything or get upset when I veered from what he had planned for the day, if that’s what you mean.”
“Because I don’
t think you need any more males in your life telling you what to do.”
“I absolutely agree. It’s not his need for organizing things I thought was strange. It was not talking very much about himself. He was more interested in listening to me talk about my family than in talking about his.”
“A man who wants to listen to you talk about yourself? Good God, girl, grab him. His kind is practically extinct.”
“Maybe. But there’s something, I don’t know, different about him. He blows hot and cold really fast. One minute, we’re holding hands, and the next minute, he’s totally off someplace where I’m not. It confuses me. Mostly, I guess, because I can’t figure out what sets it off.”
“So if he confuses you, what makes him so interesting to you?”
“When he’s totally there, completely with me, he’s amazing. Funny, smart, sweet. I’ve never met anyone quite like him.”
“And I infer from earlier conversations you think sexy is in the mix.”
“Duh. Viking god who kisses like an angel.”
“Guess that means you’re going to have to see him again so you can try to figure him out.”
She laughed. “I guess so.”
“Good. That’s settled. Now about the marketing plan.”
Chapter Thirteen
It didn’t take long to get the marketing plan sorted out. And when it was, Bella started on her assignment—developing the information they needed for a company brochure. She began to mine the computer files to locate the names and contact information for former BU/MU clients in the Seattle area. She would be reaching out to them to see if they’d be willing to be quoted on their experience with BU/MU’s services. Even if it was only reviewing computer files, it was exciting to have something else to do other than try to budge the immovable City of Seattle into granting a zoning change.
But when she made her weekly call to the planning department to see if any progress had been made, she got unexpected good news. The hearing for their application had finally been scheduled. It would take place on Wednesday afternoon of the following week. And the city staffer told her, he was reasonably confident the only opposition would be Mrs. Pennington, the neighborhood association president. The planning commission would respectfully listen and then make a decision based on the staff recommendation, which he thought she would “find acceptable” to use his words. He didn’t say it was a done deal, but his comment was close enough to make her feel confident she had good news to report to Summer.
Between researching files and prepping for the hearing, she almost forgot about Taylor’s somewhat-less-than-a-promise to see her again. Almost. She dreamed about his kisses a couple times, dreams from which she woke up aroused and crabby to find it hadn’t been real. But there was nothing more she was willing to do to get the next kiss. She had no more excuses to go to the MBA offices, and since she had made the first move the last time, it was his turn.
He made it on Thursday with a welcome phone call.
“Nate tells me you got some good news from the city,” he said.
“We did. The staffer responsible for our application said it looked pretty good because no one else had come out of the woodwork to oppose us. I have my fingers crossed and a construction team on standby to start the renovations we need the day after the vote.”
“Congratulations. Persistence must be your middle name.”
“It’s a quality I had to dig deep for, but it’s coming in handy for all sorts of things right now.” As soon as she made the comment, she realized it could be taken to mean more than just in dealing with the city. She was appalled at herself and hoped he wouldn’t pick up on it.
He didn’t seem to. “I’m happy for you. And Summer, of course. But the reason I called was to ask if you have anything planned for Sunday. I thought we might have brunch and then go to the Olympic Sculpture Garden. The weather’s supposed to be decent enough to be outside.”
“It sounds terrific. I’d love to. What time and where shall I meet you?”
“I’ll come pick you up this time. About ten?”
“Perfect.”
It took her a few minutes after they ended the phone call to get back her focus on work. She spent that much time wondering how long after he picked her up it would take for him to find an excuse to kiss her. She hoped it was immediately, if not sooner.
• • •
Taylor had deliberately not told her he was taking her to brunch at the Space Needle restaurant, wanting to make the beginning of their day together a surprise. He got the reaction he wanted as they drove in the direction of the Seattle landmark.
“We’re going to the Space Needle?” she asked. Well, yelled actually, then clapped her hands, before grapping his arm and hugging it. “I can’t believe it! Didn’t you say it was too touristy?”
“I did and it is. But the food isn’t bad, the view is spectacular, and you haven’t been there. So, here we are.” He parked the car and came around to open her door.
“Thank you for this. It’s really so sweet of you.”
“There you go again. If you keep saying I’m sweet, I might begin to believe it and lose my killer edge.”
She twined her arm through his as they walked from the car, and she didn’t let go while they rode up in the elevator. Her grin was infectious, apparently, because everyone in the elevator who looked at her smiled, too. Even he had to fight to keep his lips from curling up into something resembling the expression of sheer pleasure she had on her face.
He was glad she was holding on to him while they were being led to their table. Captivated by the view, Isabella wasn’t paying much attention to where she was walking, and twice Taylor had to catch her as she stumbled.
Once seated, he ordered champagne for them to enjoy as they perused the menu. When their server returned with their wine, they ordered: eggs Benedict with Dungeness crab for her, a garden scramble for him. She teased him about being so health conscious when they were doing something so out of the ordinary. He threatened to compare their cholesterol levels when brunch was over.
As they waited for their entrees, he watched her look out the window at the ever-changing scenery as the restaurant slowly circled around the center core of the structure. He’d never been with anyone who was so present, so open to enjoyment, so happy to be where she was. It was a revelation to him. Instead of only looking ahead, she soaked in what was around her, brought joy and passion to the moment.
He couldn’t help wondering if she brought the same joy and passion into bed with her. Not that he was going to take her to bed. Sex with her would be a bad idea. The sex would be good, he was sure. The aftermath would be tough to deal with.
But he still wondered, if he did, if he could, what would it be like? How would she sound when she came? He knew how responsive she was to his kisses. Would she be just as responsive to caresses on other parts of her body?
He could feel most his of blood leave his brain for southern latitudes as he pictured a naked and needy Isabella in his bed. It was about as inappropriate a response to brunch at the Space Needle restaurant as he could imagine. He had to get himself under control, or he’d do something really stupid, something to further complicate an already complex situation.
Except when he was with her, nothing seemed difficult or complicated. It was all straightforward. He was with a beautiful woman who seemed to find pleasure in everything she did. Who made him feel happy to merely sit across a table from her and watch her enjoy the view outside the window. A beautiful woman he wanted to take to his bed and keep her there until he figured out the secret.
• • •
Now where is he? she wondered. He was doing one of those retreat things he seemed to do fairly regularly with her. If only she knew what he was thinking.
Oh, what the hell. She had nothing to lose, did she? The worst he could do was refuse to answer. So she took the chance and asked, “Taylor, where do you go when you glaze over and disappear?”
He quite literally shook hims
elf to come back to the conversation. “I’m sorry. Was I being rude? I was thinking. Just thinking. That’s all.”
“What about? Or is it so secret that if you told me, you’d have to throw me off the observation platform?”
“I can’t think of anything I know to warrant such an extreme action.”
“Then what?”
She watched several expressions race across his face. Fear, oddly enough, was the first one. Then a thoughtful look, followed by a more determined one. “The truth is, I was wondering how to steal something from you.”
“What in the world do I have that you want?”
“It’s your ability to, I don’t know, get pleasure out of everything you do. It’s like you have pixie dust you sprinkle all over where you are to make you happy.”
“On a list of all the things I could have guessed, pixie dust wouldn’t have made the first hundred. Maybe even the first thousand.”
“It sounds silly, I know. But I don’t know how else to explain it. You have this almost magic ability to be in the present in a way that eludes me. Or at least is buried so deep inside me I can’t find it.”
She could feel hope begin to blossom in her. He was finally opening up about something personal. “Why do you think you aren’t in the present? I mean, sometimes it seems your mind wanders, and I know you have a lot of responsibility at work. But you’re here with me now. And have been most of the time we’ve spent together.”
“It’s more than a wandering mind, I’m afraid, although I’m relieved you don’t feel neglected. I thought I might have made you uncomfortable a couple times.”
She was surprised he was so aware of her reaction to him. “Not uncomfortable. Curious. Like I said, I wondered where you went when you got that look on your face.”
“Sometimes I’m afraid I’ve forgotten, if I ever knew, how to enjoy where I am and whom I’m with. I’ve spent most of my life looking ahead, planning the next step. You make me want to know your secret for enjoying the moment without losing it in anticipating what’s next.”