“I didn’t send her jewelry.”
“Okay, you went rogue. Hang on, don’t tell me. Let me guess.” He tapped his fingers on the arm of his seat. “Roses—white. Something traditional.”
“No.” I liked that he didn’t know me as well as he thought.
“Tickets to an opera or ballet.”
“Not even close.”
His eyebrows rose and fell. “I’ve got nothing. What did you send her?”
For him to understand my choices, I had to share the first time I’d met Heather and her daughter. “So I sent a broth soup and fresh focaccia because I figured she probably couldn’t keep much else down, and I sent eight mini stuffed wolves for Ava.”
“Oh, you’re good. Get in with the kid and you’re golden.”
“It wasn’t like that. I knew Ava would like them.”
Mauricio gave me a long look, then smiled. “All joking aside, I like this Heather. I like the side of you she brings out.”
I relaxed back in my seat. “Me too.”
Me too.
Monday couldn’t come soon enough.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
* * *
HEATHER
It was nearly impossible to concentrate on work Monday morning. Since erotic fantasies don’t pay the mortgage, I pushed through a bulk of the backlog created by my time away the week before.
Ten minutes before I was scheduled to leave to meet Sebastian, I walked into Teri’s office. “How do I look?”
She glanced up from typing. “Like you always do?”
I smoothed a hand over my skirt. I’d chosen it and a simple blouse because I didn’t want to look like I was trying too hard.
Did I look like I wasn’t trying at all?
I walked over to the mirror. My hair was neatly tied back, as it always was at work. Take it down? Leave it up? I leaned closer to the mirror. More makeup? Less?
I groaned.
“Relax,” Teri joked. “It doesn’t matter what you’re wearing on top as long as what you’ve got on underneath kicks it.”
“Underneath. You mean my bra and undies? I’m only going to lunch.”
Teri and I shared a painful moment in which I realized she wanted to say something, but wouldn’t, and that we had both wandered into a conversation we weren’t meant to have. I excused myself to my office and called Erica.
I quickly filled her in on what Teri had said, then asked, “You’ve seen my work clothes. Can you tell what I’m wearing beneath them?”
Erica sighed. “You wore grannie panties, didn’t you?”
“I wore what I always wear. Functional. Cotton briefs.”
“Lord save me. Did your mother never teach you—” She stopped and swore. “Oh, I didn’t mean to mention your mother. It’s an expression.”
“It’s okay. You’re right, though. I didn’t grow up with a woman in my life I could ask about stuff like this. What am I doing, Erica? Sebastian is so out of my league. I should call him and tell him I can’t meet him.”
“Stop. Just stop. He is not out of your league. There is no league. He’s a man. You’re a woman. That’s it. Forget everything else.”
“You’re right.”
“And lose the underwear.”
“What?”
“Take them off. Stash them in your drawer, or better yet throw them away.”
“And go—commando? I couldn’t. I don’t—I’ve never.”
“You’re not going to sleep with him today, right?”
“Right.”
“But you want to.”
“No—okay, not today, but yes, I hope this leads in that direction.”
“Then throw those damn things in the trash.”
“I don’t understand. If he’s not going to see them, why does it matter?”
“It’ll matter. Just trust me.”
I chewed my bottom lip for a moment, then slid off my panties and stuffed them in the trash near my desk. “Okay, this bird is flying free.”
Erica burst out laughing. “Then you’re ready for your first date. Now get going. I don’t want to be the reason you miss out on one moment of it.”
Head held high, I walked through Teri’s office and told her I’d be back in an hour. I felt the material of my skirt move against my bare ass and a slight breeze tickle my sex as I stepped out of the building.
Like a caress.
Oh.
I checked my expression in my rearview mirror when I got in. My cheeks were flushed, and there was a spark in my eyes I wasn’t used to seeing. I felt sexy and like I had a naughty secret I could share or not—it was up to me.
I finally understood.
Underneath my conservative clothing—I was kicking it.
The confidence it gave me stayed with me all the way to the restaurant, where I parked my car beside the spot where Sebastian was leaning against his. It buoyed me all the way to him.
One long, hot look.
Without even exchanging a word, he pulled me closer and lowered his mouth to mine. It was the kiss I’d waited my whole life for. I melted into it, gave myself over to it. Hot and demanding, talented and teasing. I let him in, tasted him as eagerly as he tasted me.
His tongue taught me the true wonder of what a French kiss could be. I felt claimed, adored . . . wanton.
When he raised his head, I was wet and ready—hungry, but not for a salad.
His hard breathing told me he was as affected as I was.
“Hello,” he said in a husky voice.
“Hi,” I said in a similar tone.
“Full disclosure, I had to see you today. I can’t stop thinking about you.”
“Full disclosure, I ditched my underwear in the trash.” He gave me an odd look, and I tensed as I thought of how he could have taken that. “Not because I’m still sick. Nothing like that.”
He looked as if he was holding back a laugh, and I groaned. “Can we rewind? I can’t believe how bad I am at this. I just wanted to be more like the women you usually date.”
Whatever else I might have added flew from my mind as he claimed my mouth again. His hands went to my ass, grinding me against his excitement. I moaned with pleasure. Oh God, yes.
He kissed his way to my ear and growled, “Don’t. I like you just the way you are.” With that, he plundered my mouth again and kissed me until I was ready to spread my legs for him right there in the parking lot. His hands tightened on my ass, and he broke off the kiss long enough to say, “But I love that you’re bare for me. Love it too much. If we’re actually having lunch, we should go in.”
Lunch?
Oh yeah, lunch. Right.
This was how I’d always yearned for it to be—uninhibited, wanton. I didn’t want the moment to end.
I pulled his head down for one more deep kiss, savored the shit out of it, then stepped back and smoothed my skirt. “Okay, now I’m ready.”
He pushed off his car, offering me his arm like we hadn’t just mauled each other. I took it and loved the feel of his muscles beneath my hand. A quick check of my hair confirmed that it was still reasonably in place.
His attention on me as we walked electrified me. I’d never felt so desirable—or desired. Young. Sexy and on the arm of a man I would have written off in the past as out of my league.
No leagues. I remembered what Erica had said. Just a man, a woman, and sexual tension so palpable I could only stare blankly at the hostess when she asked how many we were. My thoughts spun. Now that I’d seen Sebastian again, my choice of restaurant was disappointing. The way I felt would have been better matched to a more intimate setting—dim lighting, quiet tables. Instead, we were seated on opposite sides of a booth in a bustling dining room. The promise of a free meal if we weren’t served our food in twenty minutes or less reminded me that my hour-long lunch would be over too soon.
We both ordered light sandwiches and water. I would have eaten sandpaper without complaint as long as he continued to look at me as if I were the only one in the room. I fought
an impulse to grab his hand, drag him out of the restaurant, and proclaim that I had a menu of things I wanted and none of them were food.
Exciting.
Terrifying.
Amazing.
After the water was delivered and our server walked away, Sebastian asked, “So is your house crazy now with all those puppies?”
I spun my glass of water between my hands as I bought time before answering. Ava and I had sent him a gift. It made sense that he would send her something. “I didn’t give your present to her.”
Those intense gray eyes of his gave little away. He searched my face for moment, then said, “Too soon.”
“Yes.” I struggled to come up with a way to explain it without making it awkward. “She’s never seen me with anyone . . . men, I mean. Not that I’ve dated women. Not judging that choice, just saying that I’ve never.” I took a sip of water to shut myself up.
He had that half smile back. “You’re careful with who you introduce her to. I respect that.”
Feeling calmer, I chose my next words more carefully. “She already likes you because you returned Wolfie to her. I don’t want her to get attached in case—”
“In case this goes nowhere.”
We sat there in silence for a moment—long enough for me to kick myself for my obvious talent for killing a mood. A moment ago we were all over each other. There had to be a way to bring that back.
Feeling inspired, I slipped my foot out of my shoe. I’d read about frisky feet happening below tables. The booth would provide some cover. I raised my foot with enough enthusiasm that when my little toe connected with the leg of the booth I swore. “Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.”
“Are you okay?” He leaned toward me in concern.
I shook my foot beneath the table and pressed my lips together as I pondered if I’d broken it. “Yeah, I just smacked my foot.”
He gave me that look of his, the one that said he was intrigued and confused at the same time. “Do you want me to look at it?”
“No,” I said quickly and slid it back into my shoe. No way was I telling him what I’d just done. I didn’t want to amuse him; I wanted that hungry fire back in his eyes. “I’m fine. Forget it.”
Thankfully our sandwiches arrived.
I dug right into mine. After not eating much the last couple of days, the meal was heavenly. Only when I realized he was watching me did I rethink how quickly I had scarfed down my lunch. Habit. Mostly I ate at my desk—time was money.
He hadn’t touched his, and I was done. One corner of his mouth curled in a hint of a smile. “Would you like mine as well?”
“Don’t be an ass,” I tossed back, even though I was still hungry. I wasn’t big on exercise, but I also wasn’t big on sweets or carbs. Having Ava kept me active. I guessed the women he normally took out ordered salads and then picked at them.
It’s called pre-eating, buddy. Plenty of women I knew did it when they first met a man, but I’d never bought into why. Were women not supposed to be human? Not eat? Not fart? Hide that they also had bodily functions until . . . when? On which glorious anniversary was it acceptable for a woman to finally admit she wanted a whole damn sandwich?
“Tell me about Ava,” he said, his question taking me by surprise and pulling me down off my mental soapbox.
“She’s my world,” I said honestly and without hesitation. “Her mother never made it out of the hospital after having her. While she definitely wasn’t in my plan, I can’t imagine my life without her now.”
“So she’s adopted.”
“Yes.”
“Does she know?”
“Yes. Brenda and I were housemates in college and good friends. I feel that it’s important for Ava to know she was loved.” I glanced away, getting lost for a moment in the memories. “I was there when Ava was born. Brenda was scared—of motherhood and all that came with it—but she was happy about it too. She died so suddenly. The doctors said the cause was complications from an infection. But to me that was their way of saying they didn’t understand it any more than I did.”
“I’m sorry to hear that.”
Oh, look, there goes the last bit of sparkle from his eyes. What the hell am I doing? He lost a wife and child, and I have to work death into the first real conversation we have.
“And her biological father?” he asked.
“Not interested in the responsibility.”
Sebastian’s expression darkened. “I don’t get how anyone could see a child that way.”
I shrugged. “Me either. I heard he got married soon afterward, though, so he probably didn’t want to explain Ava. In the end it worked out for the best, I guess. She’s fully, legally mine. My name is the only one on her birth certificate.”
Sebastian gave me another long look, then took a bite of his sandwich. It gave me a moment to simply watch him. Nothing about his mannerisms implied that he felt out of place, but he didn’t look like a man who normally ate at restaurants where you could pay with a credit card at your table on a device you could also play games on.
I glanced around and caught several men and women watching him. Did they know who he was? “How was your weekend?” I asked, because I was more comfortable when he was talking than when I was.
The smile returned to his eyes. “Good. My whole family—my three brothers and my parents—flew down to scope out a school my youngest brother, Gian, has been accepted to. What you said about Ava is something my family understands. Technically, Gian is my cousin, but his mother wasn’t stable and asked my mother to take him in. The way he came to us has left him with . . . concerns that we might one day not be there for him as well. This past weekend we wanted to show him that that day will never come.”
“That sounds like an amazing family.”
“No family is perfect, but I wouldn’t trade mine.”
“What is your mother like?” I wanted to know everything.
“She’s a traditional Italian mother with wooden-spoon ninja skills when necessary.”
I laughed.
“We fear her wrath, but in a good way. My father follows the ‘happy wife, happy life’ philosophy. We moved to the US when Gian was still very young, because she thought we would have better opportunities. My family had one store back in Italy, or ‘the old country,’ as my father calls it. We’ve come a long way.”
“Romano Superstores.”
He smiled. “You’ve heard of us.”
“There’s a local buzz about you coming to the area—I heard it’s up for public vote.”
He leaned closer. “What do you think of us coming in?”
I wished I were the type of person who could lie. “I don’t know enough about the details yet to have an opinion one way or another.”
“That’s a safe answer.” One eyebrow arched. “I can see someone like you voting against the proposal. I bet you don’t like change.”
I swallowed hard. “You have no idea what I do or don’t like—yet.”
A grin spread across his face. His eyes lit with challenge—and heat.
The waitress broke in to remind us that we could pay through the device on the table, or she could bring us a check. I wasn’t ready for lunch to end, but I reached for my credit card.
Sebastian was faster. “I’ve got this. I asked you.”
“I just don’t want you to think . . .”
He paid the bill and stood. No, I don’t want lunch to end.
Since stomping my feet and announcing that would have been awkward, I let him guide me back to the parking lot. Standing between our cars, I practically hummed with sexual anticipation. This is happening. It’s really happening.
Will he ask me to go with him or just pull me back into his arms, whisk me into his car and off to somewhere private? I’ve made no secret about what I want. Hell, I sent him erotic dice.
I’ve never had hotel sex.
Right now I’d take back-seat sex.
I should tell Teri to cancel my afternoon appointments.
; Shit, why didn’t I put condoms in my purse?
I swayed closer to him. He took both of my hands in his.
Okay . . .
“The next few days will be busy for me.”
Wait? What? Had I imagined the sizzle? He was frowning at me again, the way he had the first night I’d met him.
I groaned. I had put that look there. It wasn’t really shocking considering my choice of topics. Death. Death. Death. Why couldn’t I stop talking about it? Your wife. My friend. Oh, for a real turn-on, let me remind you I don’t want you around my kid.
My hands tightened on his. He couldn’t leave if I didn’t actually let go of him, right? A memory of the first time we’d met and I hugged him out of gratitude came back to me. Did I really want to relive the feeling of being pried off him? I released his hands. “Me too. I’m swamped after missing so much time last week.”
He leaned down until his mouth hovered above mine. Honestly, it made me want to slug him. What does a woman have to do around here to get a little action? You’re making me crazy.
“How about this weekend?” he murmured.
“I have Ava.” My automatic response—mostly because I couldn’t think straight with him standing so close. Wait, did his eyes just spark with interest at my refusal?
Maybe, just maybe, this would go better if I didn’t rush it.
I counted to ten and pretended that having his lips close enough that I could flick my tongue across them was not affecting me.
“I’m a patient man when it comes to something I want,” he said in a voice that definitely belonged in my bedroom. I’d never thought talking dirty was much of a turn-on, but I was pretty sure I could masturbate to him reading a dictionary. “And I want to see you again.”
I swallowed hard. I was tempted to cave right then and announce I’d find a babysitter, but what had Erica warned me not to do? Bore him into finding someone else? That was how she’d convinced me to pursue him, but the look in his eyes made me think Erica might have gotten it wrong. People did best when they played to their strengths. I wasn’t a very good seductress, but if playing hard to get turned him on—hell, I was the queen of saying no. “Then you’ll find a way to make it happen,” I said and stepped back. “I really need to get back to the office. Thanks for lunch.”
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