Jake
My grandparents had been married for fifty-two years and had only slept apart on the nights my grandmother had been in the hospital after giving birth to their two children. Going as far back as I could remember, they'd consistently talked about the knowing you would feel when you met the one.
At thirty-two, I was a confirmed bachelor. My siblings—one brother and two sisters—had all found their partners. Me? I'd found zip aside from what kind of lube I preferred to jerk off with. When I was younger, I'd actively looked for my soulmate, but had never had any luck. I gave up the year I turned thirty, and hadn't had so much as a one-night-stand since then. That meant my right fist saw a hell of a lot more action than it should have, but I wasn't interested in meaningless sex or speed dating so it wasn't like I had a choice.
I wanted what everyone else in my family had—an unbreakable connection with one person for the rest of my life. Fucking my way through my area code wasn't going to do that for me.
That didn't mean I didn't want sex—I did—I just knew better than to bother. I never walked away feeling like I'd burned anything off or had gotten something out of it.
Instead, I'd left those situations more aware than ever of what I was missing. Each time it happened I'd slid further into a funk—frustrated as fuck that everyone and their mother had a soul mate while I had nothing.
Grandmother always insisted that I was too uptight about the whole thing.
"Don't you know that you always come upon it when you least expect it? Fate has a plan, Jacob. Let it unfold as it's meant to. One day your wait will make sense."
My brother Jeremy got married when he was twenty-four. One of my sisters, Jen, got married when she was nineteen. The other, Jill, got married at twenty-one.
Standing on the sidelines as they found their soulmates sucked. As happy as I was for them, I couldn't help feeling like I was missing out. I was the oldest of the four of us—how was it that I hadn't found my forever? To be perfectly blunt, I'd given up hope it would happen at all.
And then I saw Amber, dancing in my office, and everything snapped into focus for me.
I imagined it was a lot like what Neo felt like the first time he was plugged in and realized he had the ability to learn new skills in the blink of an eye. I went from utter frustration with the idea of soulmates to complete understanding of why things happened the way they did.
My grandmother had been right all along. Suddenly my wait made sense.
In the two hours I’d waited to see my girl again, I'd had plenty of time to think about what had happened in my office. The reaction I'd had to her was an anomaly, never before experienced even on a lesser scale. Amber was unique, and I knew it beyond the shadow of a doubt the instant she turned around and our eyes connected.
It was as if for the first time in my life my heart, soul, mind and body were all aligned and in agreement on the very same thing.
After she left my office, I'd immediately gone to my computer and pulled up the personnel files. It didn't take me long to find out that Amber's last name was Stewart and she'd been working for us for eight months. Her attendance logs were perfect—no sick days, and she'd never been late even once.
The supervisory notes in her file were all glowing, moving her from the probationary period a full thirty days before it was even up. When I reviewed her employment application, I noted her bachelor's degree was in business management. I liked what it said about Amber that she had put her career on hold to help her best friend. I thought that was truly admirable.
The last bit of information I'd gleaned from her employee file was that she drove a white Ford Focus hatchback. It didn't take long to find it in the garage, and once I did, I stood next to it like an asshole while I waited for her to finish her shift.
She didn't immediately notice me as she came off the elevator and started walking toward the car because she was preoccupied with shoving her work ID badge into her purse. I gritted my teeth as I watched and worst case scenarios played out through my head. If she were alone, any psycho could've come up from behind her and yanked her into their van.
Granted, we had top-notch security, but I wasn't taking any chances with my woman. I calmed myself with a reminder that I was there to make sure that everything would be okay as I trailed my eyes over her.
When she saw me leaning against the pillar next to her car, she stumbled for a second before her gaze met mine. I breathed a sigh of relief when I saw that her reaction to me was happiness. That gave me confirmation that what I'd thought up in my office was true—Amber was as attracted to me as I was to her.
"What're you doing here?" she asked softly.
Her voice was like auditory ecstasy.
I grinned. "Waiting for you," I answered.
The sweet smile that spread across her face hit my soul like perfect rays of sunlight after prolonged exposure to darkness. I wanted to see it every day for the rest of my life, multiple times a day.
"Really?"
I nodded as I took a few steps forward to lessen some of the space between us, her magnetic draw too powerful to be ignored for even another second.
"Why?"
Just looking at her got my heart beating triple time. I loved her braided pigtails and the touches of fuchsia in her light blonde hair. Imagining all the things I wanted to do to and with her were making my dick throb in my jeans.
"I'd like to take you to dinner," I answered.
I wanted so much more than dinner, but I knew I had to start somewhere.
Her mouth formed a perfect little O as her eyes widened. She closed her mouth and stared at me for a second in silence. Cocking her head to the left, she answered, "Okay. When?" There was no part of me that didn't want to tell her that right then and there would be perfect, but I didn't want to press it and scare her off.
"What're you doing tomorrow night?"
"I work until nine," she pointed out.
I nodded, having already worked that out for myself.
"A late dinner," I conceded.
The way she bit her lower lip as she shifted on her feet in front of me made my dick hard. At that moment I would've given everything I owned for the chance to rub the tip of my cock across her perfect pouty lips. I wanted to watch her cheeks hollow out as she sucked my dick and swallowed my come almost as much as I wanted to hear her crying out when I buried my face between her thighs.
I was so focused on her mouth that it took me a second or two to comprehend that she'd just said yes to dinner.
"Perfect!" I said with what was very likely a little too much enthusiasm.
She smiled as she gestured down at herself. "I'll bring a change of clothes to work, but since I'll be coming off a six-hour cleaning shift, I won't be able to get dressed up. Is that okay?"
"You could wear what you're wearing right now, and I'd be the happiest man alive," I assured her.
Her nose scrunched up as she looked at me with a dubious expression. "Granted, it's better without the apron I wear while I'm cleaning, but this isn't what anyone would call high fashion. I look like a reject camp counselor from the late eighties."
She made me laugh, and I liked it. "Sure it's not runway ready, but it isn't the outfit I care about—it's who's in it."
"Wow," she said as a faint blush spread across her cheeks, "that's… thank you. I guess what I was trying to say was that we should go somewhere casual."
"I'll go anywhere and do anything that will make you feel comfortable. I don't care where we go as long as we're together," I said bluntly.
Her entire face lit up as she smiled. "That gives me an idea. Every night after work I go to Caddy's Diner and get their pancake special. Tomorrow is cinnamon toast crunch, and they're my favorite. Would you be okay going there?"
I felt like I'd been given a gift. "You're headed there now?"
She nodded. "Yep. It's coconut banana pancake day, and I'm all over that."
I threw up a Hail Mary pass and prayed she wouldn't shut me down. "You've got me in the mood for pancakes. Mind if I join you tonight, too?"
And every night after that, I promised myself silently. "Have you ever had Caddy's?"
I shook my head. "Can't say I have."
Her smile was instantaneous. "It's not even if you can come anymore," she laughed. "You have to. You're in for such a treat," she promised. "You've never had fluffier, more delicious pancakes in your life."
I made a mental note to self that my woman clearly loved pancakes. I could work with that.
"I'll follow you."
"Okay. If you lose me, it's seven blocks down on the corner of Rosemont and Pine."
"I won't lose you," I vowed.
She had no way of knowing that I meant that literally. Amber was everything, and I planned to spend the rest of my life showing her how I felt.
Caddy's was an old school rail car style diner I'd easily driven by a thousand times but had somehow never noticed. As promised, I'd not lost Amber on the way there. I parked next to her in the lot and hurried around the hood of my navy blue Range Rover to meet her as she opened her car door. Every fiber of my being wanted to take her hand in mine, but I wasn't sure what kind of reception that would get. Instead of holding her hand, I stayed close to her side as we walked into the diner.
I immediately understood why she had such an affinity for the place. The style was classic diner—black and white checkered tile on the floor was like a trip back in time. In front of the counter, there was a line of twenty built-in chrome stools with cushioned seats that alternated an aqua and yellow color scheme. The domed ceiling was the same chrome color as the exterior, and everything was super clean. Old school Coca-Cola, Pepsi, and Tab signs decorated the walls, giving the place an authentic feel.
The waitress working the booths waved at us as we came in. "Hey, Amber! Take whatever seat you want, hon."
Amber nodded as she grabbed a menu from the hostess stand and walked toward the left-hand side of the diner. Stopping mid-way, she gestured to a booth. I nodded as she slid into her seat. I resisted the urge to slide in next to her and took my place across from her as she set the menu on the table and passed it to me.
"I thought you said the pancakes were the best," I teased.
"They are, but there are things you can add on," she laughed.
"I normally just get the pancakes at night, but you can get eggs, bacon, hash browns or ham on the side."
I nodded as I picked up the menu and studied it. The waitress showed up as I flipped it closed.
"Hot date?" the middle aged lady asked. She wore a pin that said her name was Meg.
Amber blushed and started to shake her head as I nodded at the waitress. "First date," I answered.
"And you thought taking her to a diner after she got off work was a good idea?" Meg cackled.
"Not necessarily my first choice," I admitted. "But I wanted to be with Amber, and she said the pancakes here are the best. Only a fool would turn down the chance to spend time with her."
Meg grinned as she smacked her gum while she chewed. "Well hot damn, sweet thing! You're as smart as you are handsome. Good news, she didn't lie. Gus's recipe is going to blow your mind."
She cocked her head to the side and looked at Amber. "The usual?"
Amber smiled sweetly and nodded.
"How about you, hot stuff?" Meg asked when she turned back to me.
"I'll have what she's having."
"Got it. She drinks lemon tea with her pancakes—is that okay, or do you want something else to drink?"
“No tea for me. I’ll just have a decaf coffee with cream."
Meg nodded and blew a bubble with her gum as she jotted down the order on the small pad in her hand. When she finished, she popped the bubble with her index finger and grinned. "I'll be back with your order. You two lovebirds enjoy yourselves but don't do anything I wouldn't do."
Amber sputtered out a laugh as I grinned at Meg. "I guess we'd need to know what you wouldn't do," I countered.
Meg wiggled her brows as she turned away. "Good girls don't tell, honey," she called back over her shoulder.
Amber was grinning when I turned my attention back to her. "Meg likes you, and she doesn't like many men under the age of forty-five. She claims the younger generations are mostly a complete loss."
I chuckled as I leaned forward and crossed my arms on the table. "My grandmother says something similar," I confided. "She told my parents that if my siblings and I turned out to be idiots, she'd never forgive them. Fortunately, we meet with her approval. I can't imagine disappointing her."
She set her chin on her palm as she grinned. "I guess your family is really close. You all work together, right?"
I shook my head. "My sisters are both stay-at-home moms right now, so they only come in for board meetings, and my dad retired two years ago. He and my mom are enjoying their thirty-second honeymoon."
She raised an eyebrow. "That's a lot of honeymoons," she laughed.
There was a pause as a waitress who wasn't Meg slid our mugs onto the table. After we thanked her and she walked away, I responded to Amber's comment.
"My parents are like newlyweds," I explained. "They've gone on a honeymoon trip every year for their anniversary. It's been thirty-seven years, and they only ever missed taking a trip alone together during the years one of the four of us were infants. Other than that, they've been consistent. Back then they'd go somewhere close, but these days they've branched out. Right now they're in Greece. They never go anywhere for longer than two weeks because they can't stand to be away from their grandbabies. Plus," I continued with a chuckle, "they watch the kids when my brother and sisters take their yearly honeymoons."
"So it's a family thing?" she asked as she stirred three packets of sugar into her tea.
"Tradition," I nodded. "Everyone in my family takes marriage very seriously. As far back as we have records no one on my father's side of the family has ever been divorced. Once you've got the Channing name, you're in it for life."
Her eyes had widened before she smiled. "Wow," she laughed. "I'm impressed and a little jealous."
"What about you?" I asked. "What's your family story?"
She let out a hmph as she traced her index finger over the steaming rim of her mug of tea. "Not quite as lucky as you are in that regard. My parents got married two months before I was born and they filed for divorce six months later. My father moved to Florida when I was a year old. By the time I was three he was no longer in contact at all and I haven't seen or heard from him since,” she shrugged.
She tried to play it off like she was used to it but I could tell it hurt.
“My mom is a serial wife,” she continued with a grimace. “She's been married four more times but has never had any more children. She never really wanted to be a parent, and that was never more evident than when she moved to Iceland with husband number five and allowed me to move in with Caroline and her grandmother so I could stay here. I was thirteen."
I frowned as I tried to imagine what kind of parent would move out of the country and leave their child behind. The word bitch came to mind, but I bit my tongue so I wouldn't say it out loud.
"Do you talk to her much now?" I asked.
Amber snorted as she shook her head in the negative. "I haven't seen her since she moved a decade ago. She sends birthday and Christmas cards, and that's that. She invited me to visit her in Iceland twice while I was in high school but I never took her up on it. To be honest, I was relieved when she left. I loved living with Caroline and Gigi. For the first time in my life, I had real roots, security and a feeling of family. We lost Gigi last year, while Caroline was pregnant. Now more than ever it's important that the two of us stay together. Family is forever."
I nodded as I considered her words, happy to hear that she put such value on family. "It's part of the reason you've been working nights so that you can take care of your nephew. You're paying Caroline back."
"I'm paying it forward," she corrected. "If Gigi were still alive she'd be very proud of how we always have each other's backs."
She stopped talking when Meg arrived with our pancakes. My stomach growled when the scent of coconut, bananas and buttermilk wafted up to my nose.
"These smell delicious,” I said enthusiastically.
Amber grinned as she lifted the syrup container and poured it over her pancakes.
"Just wait until you taste them. If you're anything like me, the addiction will be instant."
As she set the syrup container back on the table, it dripped on her finger. She laughed as she lifted a finger to her mouth and licked it off. As she did, I was hit with a fantasy that involved her naked body, some warm maple syrup, and my tongue cleaning every last drop of the sticky substance off of her. I knew Amber would taste better than anything that had ever touched my lips before. I craved her cries of pleasure, ached for the sensation of her riding my cock while I watched her tits bounce up and down. Fuck, she'd feel so goddamn perfect.
"…you going to use any syrup?"
I blinked as the filthy daydream I'd been lost in faded away. I was glad for the table that kept her from seeing that my dick was as hard as an iron pole.
"Huh?"
"I asked if you wanted syrup with your pancakes."
"Oh," I nodded, hoping to clear my head. "Yeah. Of course."
I watched as she passed it across the table to me, my fingers purposely brushing against hers as I took it from her. She made a little noise when we touched, just enough for me to know she was as affected as I was.
Fuck me; I needed her more than I needed air.