that he loved me, but that he liked me. I wanted him to acknowledge the electricity between us. Your move, David!
He didn’t say anything for a moment. It felt like the quiet stretched on forever. Finally, he turned his whole decadent body to face me, his arm perched on the back of the chair. He rubbed his jaw with one hand and stared at me. I was shaky with anticipation. He took a deep breath and the corners of his mouth turned up ever so slightly.
“Samantha, you interest me. I’d like to take you out. Why are you fighting me?”
Indeed. Why was I fighting him? God, he was gorgeous. There was a rich-beyond-words prime specimen of maleness sitting across from me, wanting to take me out on a fancy date. And I was making it hard for him. I must have been crazy. What was wrong with me? I rocketed back to earth.
“Okay. But make it five o’clock. He can meet me at work, because I’ll need to get dressed,” I replied, sealing the deal.
He exhaled and looked enormously pleased.
5
After breakfast, Thomas took me back across the bridge, to Curtis’s house. As we drove, I went over the events of the previous day in my head. Had that all really happened. What had I just done it in a pantry? This was so un-like me. Then again, he was so un-like anyone I had ever met. His control and confidence sent me spinning, and I slowly moistened as I remembered each detail.
The morning was still cool, and the outside of Curtis’s house had a very different feel compared to the night before- the windows were dark, and leaves covered the brick pathway leading to the front door. It seemed quiet inside. I didn’t want to wake anyone, but I needed to get my things. I knocked lightly on the wooden front door. No response. Crap. Maybe they were all still asleep. I tried to peer through a stained glass window, but I couldn’t see anything. Maybe Carrie was still asleep on the sofa. I decided to cut through the side yard toward the rear of the house.
From the back side of the house, I saw that Carrie was no longer on the sofa where I had left her the night before, and I worried she had already gone home. Then I spied a light on in the kitchen and walked toward it, over the deck.
Oh, thank God. Curtis, along with Carrie and a few other guests from the night before were all seated around his breakfast table. I approached the sliding glass door and waved.
“Sammie!” I heard a muffled exclamation from Curtis as he leapt up to open the door. “Sammie, what are you doing here?” he exclaimed and welcomed me inside with a hug. He was still in a plush terrycloth robe, and everyone was devouring tall stacks of pancakes and coffee. “Come in, come in, have some pancakes and coffee.”
“Oh thanks, but I already ate.”
Carrie got up from her seat and came over to give me a hug.
“Sorry about last night, Sam, I didn’t realize I was so tired,” she whispered apologetically into my ear.
“No problem,” I whispered back.
“So I hear you got another ride home from David Keith, Sam,” Carrie said loudly, so that the whole group could hear.
Everyone was looking at me with raised eyebrows, and I quickly figured out that I had been the topic of conversation around the table this morning.
“Well, that was the plan ...” I said mildly, “until I realized I had forgotten my purse and keys here.”
“Paging Dr. Freud,” quipped Curtis, and the table erupted in laughter.
I tried to give Curtis a hard look, but broke out into a smile. Maybe I did do that subconsciously. Wow. If so, my subconscious was pretty daring. I blushed and braced my hands against my hips, continuing.
“So he offered to take me back to his place, and his driver brought me back this morning so that I could grab my things.”
“Whoa, whoa, whoa!” Curtis interjects. “Girl, you just skipped over a big part of that story.” He started with a battery of questions. “What happened once you got back to his place? Where does he live? Is it one of those
He didn’t say anything for a moment. It felt like the quiet stretched on forever. Finally, he turned his whole decadent body to face me, his arm perched on the back of the chair. He rubbed his jaw with one hand and stared at me. I was shaky with anticipation. He took a deep breath and the corners of his mouth turned up ever so slightly.
“Samantha, you interest me. I’d like to take you out. Why are you fighting me?”
Indeed. Why was I fighting him? God, he was gorgeous. There was a rich-beyond-words prime specimen of maleness sitting across from me, wanting to take me out on a fancy date. And I was making it hard for him. I must have been crazy. What was wrong with me? I rocketed back to earth.
“Okay. But make it five o’clock. He can meet me at work, because I’ll need to get dressed,” I replied, sealing the deal.
He exhaled and looked enormously pleased.
5
After breakfast, Thomas took me back across the bridge, to Curtis’s house. As we drove, I went over the events of the previous day in my head. Had that all really happened. What had I just done it in a pantry? This was so un-like me. Then again, he was so un-like anyone I had ever met. His control and confidence sent me spinning, and I slowly moistened as I remembered each detail.
The morning was still cool, and the outside of Curtis’s house had a very different feel compared to the night before- the windows were dark, and leaves covered the brick pathway leading to the front door. It seemed quiet inside. I didn’t want to wake anyone, but I needed to get my things. I knocked lightly on the wooden front door. No response. Crap. Maybe they were all still asleep. I tried to peer through a stained glass window, but I couldn’t see anything. Maybe Carrie was still asleep on the sofa. I decided to cut through the side yard toward the rear of the house.
From the back side of the house, I saw that Carrie was no longer on the sofa where I had left her the night before, and I worried she had already gone home. Then I spied a light on in the kitchen and walked toward it, over the deck.
Oh, thank God. Curtis, along with Carrie and a few other guests from the night before were all seated around his breakfast table. I approached the sliding glass door and waved.
“Sammie!” I heard a muffled exclamation from Curtis as he leapt up to open the door. “Sammie, what are you doing here?” he exclaimed and welcomed me inside with a hug. He was still in a plush terrycloth robe, and everyone was devouring tall stacks of pancakes and coffee. “Come in, come in, have some pancakes and coffee.”
“Oh thanks, but I already ate.”
Carrie got up from her seat and came over to give me a hug.
“Sorry about last night, Sam, I didn’t realize I was so tired,” she whispered apologetically into my ear.
“No problem,” I whispered back.
“So I hear you got another ride home from David Keith, Sam,” Carrie said loudly, so that the whole group could hear.
Everyone was looking at me with raised eyebrows, and I quickly figured out that I had been the topic of conversation around the table this morning.
“Well, that was the plan ...” I said mildly, “until I realized I had forgotten my purse and keys here.”
“Paging Dr. Freud,” quipped Curtis, and the table erupted in laughter.
I tried to give Curtis a hard look, but broke out into a smile. Maybe I did do that subconsciously. Wow. If so, my subconscious was pretty daring. I blushed and braced my hands against my hips, continuing.
“So he offered to take me back to his place, and his driver brought me back this morning so that I could grab my things.”
“Whoa, whoa, whoa!” Curtis interjects. “Girl, you just skipped over a big part of that story.” He started with a battery of questions. “What happened once you got back to his place? Where does he live? Is it one of those
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