Chapter Ten
Colby’s muscles loosened as if she’d just stretched and sighed. Her body fitted against Alec’s as perfectly as one of his beloved puzzle pieces.
Although she’d spent the better part of her week daydreaming about more kisses, simply resting in the crook of his arm seemed enough for now. No pressure. No expectations. She stayed there, listening to Alec’s heart beating, letting her mind wander aimlessly, like a butterfly, fluttering from thought to thought.
One thought: he smelled like her favorite fabric softener—eminently snuggly. Another: the late-afternoon light made her cream-colored furniture look peach. A third equally random thought: despite the hot dog she’d chowed down earlier, she was hungry. That one broke through the silence. “I’m starving.”
He muttered a curse, his body tensing to stand. “My dinner reservation at Beast.”
Colby tightened her grip around his waist. “Can you cancel?”
He paused before resting his cheek on her head. “Yeah.”
A little smile formed. She wanted him to stay even though she didn’t know where the night might lead. In truth, it didn’t need to lead anywhere else. His comforting presence was more than enough.
“Want me to whip up something to eat?” he asked.
“I doubt I’ve got much to work with.”
“You forget who you’re talking to.” He tapped her shoulder so she’d let him up, which she did with great reluctance.
With long, assured strides, he crossed the room to her refrigerator. She watched his confidence fade as he took inventory of its contents. If memory served, there should be jelly, butter, some mango chunks, broccoli, half-and-half, and maybe some slices of Muenster cheese. Maybe. Oh, and seltzer. Grapefruit-flavored seltzer.
Without a word, he closed the door, wearing a faintly dazed expression. He then rummaged through her cupboards, where he likely spied a lot of tea, a half-empty bag of Cheetos, a few slices of bread, and some random oils and spices.
He turned, his face aghast, head shaking in dismay.
“This is the most pathetic kitchen pantry I’ve ever seen. Ever, Colby.” For Alec, food had always been a serious business. “Don’t you eat here?”
“Sometimes. But this month I’ve been filling up on everything you’ve been testing, or eating with my mom. I haven’t been to the store in a while.”
“I’ll say.”
Colby shrugged. “Let’s order pizza.”
“No.” He scowled. “I won’t be defeated.”
“Alec, there’s nothing here.”
His eyes lit at the challenge. “Refill your wine. I’ll have something ready in twenty minutes.”
“You don’t have to prove anything to me.” She sat forward, recognizing a man on a mission.
“I have to prove it to myself.” He smiled, shrugging.
From her distant spot on the sofa, she watched an amazing flurry of activity. One pan sizzled with seasoned oil, another with butter. A third roiled with boiling water. At one point, he worked at the counter, giving her a clear view of his face. The image transported her back in time to his mom’s kitchen, where she’d often found him working with his mouth slightly open and his tongue pressed against his top row of teeth—a picture of concentration. The fact that hadn’t changed made her smile.
Her curiosity piqued when he grabbed the bag of Cheetos.
He looked up as she craned her neck. “No peeking!”
Minutes later, he gestured toward the kitchen barstools. Unlike Jenna’s torturous seats, Colby’s stools had soft suede cushions.
Once she sat down, he said, “Normally I wouldn’t put these particular dishes together as a meal, but as you know, there weren’t many options.”
Following the disclaimer, he placed a grilled-cheese-and-jelly sandwich in front of her, followed by a bowl of sliced mango with some sprinkled spices. Finally, he revealed a platter of broccoli with crumbled Cheetos.
“That’s pretty funny, Alec,” she chuckled.
He forked a broccoli crown and held it out. “Try it.”
To her surprise, a complexity of flavors exploded as she crunched down on the veggie. Red pepper flakes and garlic? Some Parmesan, perhaps? And, of course, a dusting of crunchy Cheetos. “You truly are a master.”
He bowed like a Broadway actor and then speared a crown for himself.
“Watching you now reminded me of hanging out in your mom’s kitchen. I loved watching you cook. If only I’d become a great cook just from watching.” She grimaced. “Fail on that score.”
“Why didn’t you ask me to teach you?” He took another bite of broccoli.
“It was more fun to watch. Plus, if you were teaching me, I wouldn’t have been able to talk your ear off. It seemed like a fair trade: you were my unpaid counselor and I was your food tester. Speaking of which, what’s on the mango?” She tentatively tested one, treating her senses to a little heat and tang.
“Chili powder and a squeeze of lime, though that lime looked a bit suspicious.”
“It tastes amazing!” Then she pushed at the sandwich. “But grilled cheese and jelly?”
“That I know you’ll enjoy. Sweet and savory always mix well.” To prove his point, he took a bite from the corner of the sandwich, tugging it a little to reveal the perfect stretch of melted Muenster.
“Show-off.”
She’d pretty much thrown her plans to date a baggage-free guy out the window, yet all she could do was smile. Then she remembered Sara’s remark about Alec’s fight with his dad. It occurred to her then that this meal shouldn’t have surprised her. Alec’s ability to make something out of nothing had been learned from a young age thanks to what little affection he got from his father.
“You never mentioned your family’s reaction to the newspaper article.” She speared another broccoli crown.
He turned away, suddenly very interested in washing the pans. “They’re fine.”
“Alec.” She set down her fork, waiting for him to turn around.
When he finally did, he settled his hip against the sink and crossed his arms.
“That’s a crock.” She rested her chin in her hands. “Your dad hates us working together, so there’s no way he’s okay with that article. Please don’t bottle up your feelings. Whatever this might become, it won’t stand a chance if we can’t share things with each other.”
Colby had already tried the “under the carpet” approach with Mark. She didn’t know much about healthy relationships, but she knew one shouldn’t start the way her marriage ended. Keeping a lid on the past was fine, but they had to be able to openly discuss the present.
His posture deflated like a balloon with a slow leak as he walked around the bar and sank onto the stool beside her. “We argued. Nothing new for me.”
“I hate being a source of more conflict.” She took another bite of her sandwich, but, truthfully, her appetite had waned.
For weeks she’d been resisting inviting his complicated problems into her life without considering how she made his life harder. “Will getting more involved with me cost you your relationship with your dad?”
“What relationship?” Alec hoped the glib remark would end the conversation. There were better ways Colby could raise his blood pressure than bringing up his dad.
“Be serious.”
“I can handle my dad.” He wanted to shut this conversation down before she had second thoughts, although he couldn’t deny his own concerns about how he’d manage a relationship with her while still working on one with his dad.
“What about Hunter? This might interfere with your friendship.”
Alec didn’t welcome her concern. He wanted her to be freed because of him, not in spite of him.
He grabbed her hand. “Trust me to sort out my relationships. There’s no rush, anyway. We’ll wait until you’re sure about what you want.”
“You’re pretty patient.” She grinned.
“You have no idea.” He’d wait forever for the chance to give her back the wings Mark’s suicide had clipped.
On the radio, the soft tune of dueling guitars floated through the room.
“I love this song.” Colby smiled and took another bite of her sandwich, licking a bit of jelly from the corner of her mouth.
“I’ve never heard it,” he said absently, wishing he could lick that jelly from her lips.
“‘Bloom’ by the Paper Kites.”
The melody bubbled along like a brook in the springtime, carrying his heart along with it.
Colby’s face lit as she slid off her stool and tugged his arm. “Let’s dance.”
The sun had nearly ducked below the horizon, casting the apartment in shadows except for the light coming from the stove hood. Colby rested her head against his chest and followed his lead, neither of them talking.
Every aspect of the moment captivated him. The rosemary-and-mint scent of her hair, the weight of her head on his chest, the feel of her cotton dress beneath his palm, the sway of her hips, the sound of their feet shuffling against the wood floor, the lilac-and-gray light shrouding them in a peaceful haze, the sound of her breath, the feel of her thin hand in his.
He raised her hand and pressed his lips to her wrist. She might not feel strong enough to confront the past, but he believed that compassionate, brave girl she’d been still existed, even if pain had locked her away deep inside. Colby would believe it, too, once he stitched together her torn pieces tight enough that she no longer noticed the seams.
“I haven’t danced in years.” She raised her head, her gaze soft.
“Maybe instead of reading about some fictional character’s hundred happy days, we should tick through our own bucket lists together.”
“That’s sweet.” She grinned but didn’t appear eager for adventure.
“I’m serious. What’s on your list?”
After a moment, she said, “My top three would be a trip to Holland during its tulip festival, a hot-air-balloon ride, and to meet Adam Levine.”
“Adam Levine?” he chuckled.
“No judging. What about you?”
“I’ve never given it any thought.”
“Off the top of your head, what have you always wanted to do?”
Make love with you. “Earn a Michelin star—or two, or three—someday. Cycle through French wine country. Fish in Alaska.”
“I can’t help much with that first one.”
“Michelin doesn’t cover the Northwest US at this point, but maybe in the future. In the meantime, I want to win another James Beard Award, and you’ve given me a place to start trying.” He set aside concerns about the way she kept wanting to tweak his menu for “broader appeal.” This wasn’t the time for that discussion with “the boss.” Instead, he teased, “Of course, the other two might be a little difficult to squeeze in on Mondays and Tuesdays, and I can’t have the boss catch me slacking off.”
“She’s a taskmaster. Her and that dumb rule against coworkers dating.” Colby wrinkled her nose.
“Sexual harassment suits are messy.” He kissed her temple, then twirled her around. “But if I play my cards right, I could end up owning the joint.”
“First she’d have to sexually harass you.”
“I can’t wait!” He’d never spoken truer words in his life.
Her eyelids lowered slightly. “Maybe you won’t have to.”
The heated words shot through him. She slid her hands up his chest. Her fingertips brushed along his neck to the line of his jaw, then back down and over his shoulder blades. His body grew hot and hard wherever she touched him.
He traced the curves of her hip, her spine, the back of her neck. Her lips parted slightly, but her gaze followed her own hands as they swept down his torso, then snuck around his waist and over his ass.
Colby’s featherlight touch was the most erotic of explorations, despite his being fully clothed. He willed time to stop and let himself savor the moment building between them. The thrum in his chest and elsewhere awakened every part of his body, inside and out, imprinting her touch on his soul. They swayed to the music, and everything around him receded into a fog as he lightly rested his hands on her hips.
“Alec.” The whisper drifted around him, making him dizzy.
He didn’t know how to respond to the onslaught of emotion, because what did one do when his dreams came true?
Eyes closed, he kissed her forehead, her nose, her eyelid, her jaw—which made her shiver—then finally her mouth. She tasted like jelly and cheese and a hint of the pepper flakes, but mostly she tasted like Colby. Colby, Colby, Colby. His heart brimmed over with rich sweetness, thick and decadent like molten caramel.
Her arms wound around his neck, holding him close. So close it seemed as if their hearts might knock into each other.
He wouldn’t open his eyes for fear that this dream would disappear. Need tightened his entire body with the groundswell of desire and hunger that had built up for years.
Colby eased away and took his hand. “Let’s take this someplace more comfortable.”
No tears. Today she shed no tears. Still, jumping into bed could be the wrong move. High heat, while seductive, could be tricky. Like trying to sear steak in butter, the results would likely be smoky and bitter.
“Wait.”
Her brows rose.
“Let’s slow down. I think you—we—need time.”
She smiled. “Haven’t we waited long enough?”
If you only knew.
He gathered her close so she wouldn’t misread his intentions. “There’s a lot at stake. Our friendship. Our working relationship. Let’s not rush into something and risk one of us ending up hurt.”
Of course, chances were that person would be him, not her. He’d be her rebound lover, and then she’d wake up and remember that he’d never been the man of her dreams.
Her hand touched his cheek before he realized that his gaze had wandered.
“Why do you look sad?” She brushed his bangs away from his eyes.
“I’m not sad.” He masked his self-doubt with a bad joke. “I’m concentrating. It takes a lot of restraint to keep from throwing you over my shoulder and racing to the bedroom.”
“Then let go.”
“If this has any chance of being meaningful, we should treat it with reverence.”
“Reverence,” she almost whispered, her face registering esteem. Esteem, however, wasn’t near enough regard to satisfy him.
“Yes, reverence. Starting with a kiss.” He walked her backward toward the wall. “A perfect kiss.”
He pressed her against the wall, then brought her hands up over her head, lightly fastening them there with his one hand.
“What’s a perfect kiss?” The pulse point of her neck visibly throbbed.
With his free hand, he swept a bit of her hair away from her face and tucked it behind her ear. He stared into her eyes the entire time, even as his thumb stroked her cheek and then brushed along her lips.
“A perfect kiss begins with me touching your mouth.” His gaze temporarily dipped to the cupid’s bow of her lips before returning to her eyes, emboldened by the desire he saw reflected.
Before she replied, he closed his mouth over hers and nipped at her lip, then traced its seam with his tongue. He sucked her lower lip and then sank his tongue into her mouth. Probing once, twice, and a third time until he heard her breathing grow heavier.
“A perfect kiss,” he murmured against her cheek while kissing her jaw and neck, “will brand your heart with my desire.” He released her hands and cradled her face, looking in her eyes. “It will restore you and make you forget every kiss that came before.” He kissed her again, this time with more urgency. Then, almost like a prayer, he whispered, “It will make you dizzy until the answer to every question is my name.”
Her body shivered as she fell under the spell of his perfect kiss. He almost regretted his talent for restraint, now that being one with her seemed essential.
“So we’re agreed.” He kissed her again because, when her lips were so close, he couldn’t resist.
“Not at all.” She unbuttoned his shirt, then smoothed her hands along his chest. “Show me what else you can do so perfectly.”
This time when she yanked on his arm and led him to her room, he followed.
He barely registered the surroundings because the only thing he could see was her beautiful, silky hair in his hands. Her flushed cheeks and swollen lips. The curve of her shoulders, breasts, and hips as she stepped out of her dress as it fell to the floor.
Her hot skin, so smooth and taut beneath his fingertips, warmed his hands. Lust surged when she pressed her lips to his chest, then made way for more tender yearning.
Closing his eyes, he unleashed the umpteen years of passion he’d hidden away in fear of rejection or scorn. Ma moitié. He didn’t say the words aloud, but love—red, rich, and complete—consumed his heart and soul.
Heat flared in anticipation of seeing her naked and sweaty and staring at him. Of hearing her call out his name and feeling her mouth on his eager body. Of losing himself in her, utterly and completely.
Seconds turned into minutes turned into hours of tangled arms and legs, of beating hearts and panting breaths, of murmured ecstasy, until they drifted into blissful sleep as one.