Chapter 20
September 17th
Today’s Schedule: Dinner in Southlake with Dad, Lydia, Jordan, Ian, and Ronan, 7 PM
“I have to admit I was hoping you’d bring JP,” Lydia says to me as she runs water over some heirloom tomatoes in a colander. “I can’t wait to meet this new man in your life. You know I said he was welcome to join us for dinner tonight.”
I freeze as my stepmom shuts off the tap. I’m standing at the edge of the expansive kitchen island in the sunlight-filled kitchen. Lydia is working on sides, Dad is grilling steak and lobster tails outside, and my siblings are enjoying the pool on this early night.
I choose, however, to stay out of the pool and keep my makeup and hair dry, as I’m going straight to JP’s after dinner. So here I am, munching on carrot sticks and ranch dip, which also opens me up for a lot of questions from my romantically minded stepmom.
“Lydia, we’re casual,” I say. “Hanging out. That’s it.”
But my heart knows it’s moved past hanging out.
I’ve seen JP every night since we connected on Monday. I never get sick of being with him. Everything changed for me when I revealed my deepest fear to him.
I let him in.
I’ve never let anyone in like that.
I’ve never wanted to.
But seeing the compassion in his beautiful eyes, the concern, the care JP had only for me, made me feel safe, and before my head could stop me, my heart spoke the truth.
“Well, your pictures on social media tell me you spend a lot of time hanging out together,” Lydia says emphatically as she shakes the water off the tomatoes.
I sigh. In addition to the pictures we shared of bowling and Oreo eating, someone took a picture of us kissing at the Turkish restaurant, which showed up on Connectivity and got reposted on Tumblr and Twitter. JPsSwissMiss posted that JP was dating a model and since models aren’t forever dating material, she would offer to heal his “precious Swiss heart” after I broke it.
Irony. My heart is the one in jeopardy of being broken.
“It’s early,” I say, speaking not only to Lydia but myself, too. “We’re seeing each other, but who knows where it will go?”
That’s my reminder to myself.
“Every love story has a beginning,” Lydia says, turning around and smiling at me as she brings the tomatoes to a cutting board on the island. “I think this might be yours.”
I’m saved by the back door opening, and the scent of grilled food quickly permeates the air. “Hon, I’m ready for those steaks,” Dad says, coming inside. “The corn and lobster tails are well on the way to being done.”
“I have them resting here for you,” Lydia says, smiling brightly at my dad.
I watch as they talk to each other. Even in simple interactions, I see the bonds of friendship, affection, and love between them. Their relationship has been like this for ten years now, the entire length of their marriage. Dad met Lydia after he separated from Mom, and they’ve been together ever since.
Committed and happy.
What made Dad love Mom enough to marry her, swear to love her forever, and have two children with her and yet the whole thing would still fall apart? How did their love end up with two people hurting each other so badly that there was nothing but pain and hate at the end? How many nights did I hear Mom crying and pleading with Dad to try and work it out when they thought I was asleep? I can’t forget the anguish I heard in her voice and the way Dad got choked up when he said love wasn’t enough to save their marriage.
Love wasn’t enough.
The back door opens again, and this time Ian strolls in, his blond hair wet from swimming and a striped beach towel casually draped around his shoulders.
“Hey, do you have my hockey tickets for this season?” he asks, interrupting my thoughts. “I only need weekends and holidays, so Rochat should be able to hook me up, right?”
“Ha-ha, no,” I say. “JP is not Ticketmaster.”
“If you asked, he would,” Ian says. “He’d do that for his girl and the brother she loves best.”
“Ronan wants tickets?” I tease.
“Come on, ask him for the season home opener. It’s a Friday. I’ll come up with Ronan that night and drive back the next morning for the football game in Austin.”
“Jordan can get you tickets,” I say, this time selecting a broccoli floret and popping it into my mouth.
“Wait until they are engaged, then you can ask for tickets from your future brother-in-law,” Dad chimes in. “There’s no way he’d say no then.”
I nearly choke on my broccoli.
“Dad!” I sputter, reaching for my glass of water and taking a sip.
“Kidding,” Dad says, winking at me. “Trust me, the last thing I want is you rushing into anything. I know you’re a smart girl. You won’t jump into anything with a professional athlete.”
I furrow my brow. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
Jordan and Ronan step inside from the patio, also wet and with towels wrapped around them.
“Reese, pumpkin, you know the stories Jordan has told us about the players,” Dad says. “Athletes have access to a lot of money and status, which changes people. They tend to be partiers and womanizers. I want you to be careful.”
“I am,” I say.
But not for the reason you think, I add to myself.
“Mitch, don’t stereotype JP like that,” Lydia says. “Not every athlete is going to cheat.”
“Some do,” Jordan adds as she uses the towel to dry her face. “Some party. Like Easton Shaw, the free agent they signed from Baltimore this summer. Now that’s a player I wouldn’t trust.”
Gah. I need to start brushing up on my Demons knowledge outside of JP and Matt because I have no clue who Jordan is talking about.
“He’s exciting, though,” Ronan adds. “He has incredible hands. You should see that guy pass the puck. I heard the only reason Baltimore gave up on him is that they were sick of the partying.”
Ronan wants to be a sports play-by-play announcer, and he’s a walking encyclopedia of sports knowledge and stats.
“Matt Rhinelander 2.0?” Dad asks.
“Pre-Holly Matt Rhinelander,” I correct. “He’s a different guy now.”
Matt used to be a huge partier and player before he got together with Holly. This Easton guy, whoever he is, sounds like he might be like the old Matt.
“That is why I’m telling you to be careful,” Dad says, looking pointedly at me. “There are more guys like Easton and Matt than good ones.”
“Oh, JP is one of the good ones,” Jordan says. “He wants to fall in love, and apparently, he wants to fall in love with Reese.”
“Aw, isn’t that cute?” Ian teases.
“What a wuss,” Ronan adds, piling on.
I feel my face grow hot with embarrassment, right up to the roots of my hair, and I will them all to disappear.
“The three of you need to get changed and quit dripping water on my floor,” Lydia says smoothly, apparently reading my mind. “And Mitch, you need to get these steaks on the grill, or we won’t be eating anything but salad and ranch dip for dinner.”
Everyone moves, with my brothers and Jordan heading upstairs to change and my dad going back out to the grill. As soon as they’re gone, Lydia moves toward me, drawing me in for a hug.
“You are a smart woman. Trust yourself. Listen to your heart,” she whispers in my ear. “I know it won’t let you down.”
I step back from her, nodding.
And I hope her advice is right.
~ ~ ~
I eagerly head to JP’s condo door. It’s nearly ten o’clock, but JP said he was still game for me to come over after dinner.
During the drive from Southlake to Dallas, I thought a lot about my situation. Ha-ha. Only I would call seeing JP for nearly a week a “situation.”
I know JP isn’t what my dad suggested I look out for.
JP is a good man.
Who is good for me.
I’m not going to worry about what the future holds and what my feelings might mean. I’m going to cherish the time we have together and not put any pressure on it to be more than it is.
Real.Life.Reese is going to live in real life moments.
Starting now.
I ring his doorbell, and my stomach tingles as I hear the door unlock. JP pulls it open, and joy sweeps over me at the sight of him.
Oh, my, he’s wearing another crisp white dress shirt and black dress pants.
Seriously. Smoking. Hot.
“Hi,” I say, smiling at him. “Why are you so dressed up on a Saturday night?”
JP flashes me a sexy grin and pulls me into his arms. “I wanted to look good for you.”
His warm mouth claims mine, and I melt into his chest, letting the spicy, assertive scent of his cologne drift over me.
Delicious.
JP breaks the kiss and brings me inside, pushing the door shut behind me. I stop walking when I spot something new in the living room.
A black baby-grand piano.
“JP,” I say, heading over to it. “You got a piano?”
“Yeah. My special delivery came today,” JP says, following me over to it. The piano is set up in the corner of his living room, next to the large bank of windows overlooking the city. “I can finally play again, which I’ve been wanting to do.”
“I didn’t know you played,” I say in amazement. “How did I not know this?”
“I love music,” JP says, sitting down on the bench. He pauses for a moment, rolling up the sleeves of his shirt and revealing his powerful, tanned forearms and causing my pulse to burn in response.
I swear there is nothing sexier than powerful forearms.
“I have to keep some things for you to discover about me,” JP says. “I’d hate for you to lose interest.”
“I don’t think you have to worry about that, Batman.”
“Good,” JP says. “Here, have a seat. I learned something for you today.”
My heart is about to burst as I sit down next to him.
“What?” I ask, amazed.
“It’s a piece in your honor,” JP says, flipping some sheet music.
His fingers begin flying across the keys, and a familiar tune fills the air.
I lose my breath as I realize what it is.
It’s “Under the Sea” from the movie The Little Mermaid.
JP begins to sing the words, his deep baritone filling the air, and I know he learned this song for his mermaid.
Me.
I swallow down tears as I listen to him sing. He’s an accomplished pianist, his fingers moving effortlessly as he plays. JP is a brilliant, amazing man with many gifts to give.
And he’s giving me this song.
I watch the lights of Dallas illuminate him as he plays. I’m struck by the power of this moment, my Swiss man in an American city, sitting by my side, playing music from his heart for me.
And then I know.
I want this man to make love to me tonight.
The need is so sharp and so urgent it takes me by surprise. I need to feel his hands all over me, his kisses in the most intimate of places. I need to be touched and held by him all night long. I want to give him pleasure, to feel his body shiver from my touch while I love him all over.
JP finishes the song and turns to me.
“Just a little something for my mermaid,” he says softly.
“I love it, Jean-Pierre,” I say, my voice husky. “I love being your mermaid.”
JP stares at me, and I know he senses what I want from him.
Our legs brush together on the piano bench, and I reach for him, putting my hand on his huge thigh and feeling the fine suit fabric glide underneath my fingertips as I allow my hand to travel up his leg.
Heat sears through me. Urgent, primal heat. JP’s eyes flash with hunger, and then his mouth crashes onto mine. I cry as his mouth, hot and demanding, opens mine in a desperate kiss. I grab his hair with both hands, and JP slides his hand over my bare legs, up under the skirt of my flirty black summer dress, stroking my thighs as he kisses me, his hands edging closer to the lace edge of my panties.
“Touch me,” I gasp, pleading with him.
A groan escapes his lips in response. His hand moves up to the lace edging around my hip bone, and just like he did with my swimwear bottoms, he hooks a finger around the strap and toys with it. I shudder against him.
JP breaks the kiss, and we both gasp for breath.
“I will touch you everywhere you want me to,” JP assures me, his hands now in my hair. “But not yet. I’m not done kissing you. I need more of this.”
Then his lips part mine, his tongue sliding inside my mouth, taking more from me.
He loves to kiss, I realize.
The fact that he puts that first is a huge turn on for me.
I kiss him harder as a result of this realization, losing myself in the pure pleasure of tasting him, connecting with him, teasing him with my tongue. Our kisses grow more frantic, desire coiling inside of me as I begin unbuttoning his shirt. I want to feel his skin against mine, and even his dress shirt is too much of a barrier for the intimacy I want.
The intimacy I need.
JP shrugs out of it, throwing it aside. Our lips never part the entire time, as if we can’t bear to stop, even for a second. His hands are tangling through my hair, and my hands caress the powerful muscles of his chest.
He lifts his head to gaze at me, and desire explodes inside of me as he does. My heart is slamming against my ribs. My pulse is racing.
“I have a condom,” I say, kissing him on the mouth. “It’s in my purse.”
JP’s hands slowly skim down my body, caressing me as he moves, and I love the way he’s touching me.
“You’re so beautiful,” JP murmurs. “I want you, Reese. I do.”
I lean forward and lower my lips to his neck, kissing him, tasting him with my tongue, and he shivers as a result. Excitement surges through me as a response. I want to make him shiver. I want to please him tonight, to bring him over the edge with me.
“You taste so good,” I whisper against his skin.
“You’re undoing me,” JP groans, and his hands begin to push my dress up. “Your kiss. Your tongue. I can’t last.”
I help him remove my little dress, and now I’m before him in my lacy black strapless bra and string bikini bottoms. JP sucks in his breath.
“Beautiful,” he repeats again.
JP reaches for his belt buckle and undoes it. I bite my lip in anticipation as he stands up and removes his pants. Now he’s before me in his boxer-briefs, all hard, all beautiful.
And mine.
I reach for him, trying to pull him back to me, but JP stops me.
“Get the condom, my mermaid,” he whispers sexily.
I lean over the piano bench, dump my purse upside down, and quickly pluck out the condom.
JP takes it from me, and as I wait for him to lower back on the piano bench, he surprises me by standing me up.
“Are we going to the bedroom?” I ask.
“No.”
He removes my bra and begins kissing my breasts. I arch in pleasure as his tongue flickers over me. Then JP sits down on the bench, and to my surprise, he pulls me down so I’m straddling him.
“This way. So I can see every gorgeous part of you as we make love for the first time,” JP says. “I want to see your eyes when we’re together. I have to see you.”
I break out in a sweat. Desire is consuming me alive.
He needs the physical now, but he has to have the emotional connection at the same time.
No man has ever made love to me like this.
It’s sexy.
Hot.
And romantic.
I press myself to him, wrapping my arms around him. My gaze never leaves his. Our bodies entwine. I feel the heat coming from him now, and he rips the condom wrapper open with his teeth.
“Become one with me,” JP whispers.
“Yes,” I whisper back. “Yes.”
And as we begin to make love, I know everything between us is about to change.
I’ll be lost to JP.
Forever.